X Files: Friends like these
by yvj
Summary: AU. Kim and Ron are agents who specialize in unexplained phenomena, they are the investigators of The X-Files, strange and inexplicable cases which are also mysteries that the FBI doesn't want solved.
1. Prologue

A/N I promised this a long time ago and it's finally here. If you haven't noticed the last month I've introduced two new stories. I was supposed to go for three but that's not happening. I'm pushing the third back. For the records I haven't officially abandoned any story. Or more specifically I haven't abandoned A.L.L Middlewood, and BonBon P.I. These stories will get most of my focus in the last quarter of the year.

Shout out to Brother Bludgeon for helping with much of the plot line. And to good old Joe

* * *

**Camp Wannaweep**

**July 9, 1992 8:45 PM**

The little boy ran through the dark woods. Bare feet stumbling on stones and skidding on moist fallen leaves. His clothes were tattered and ripped and much of his torso was exposed. This left him vulnerable to the branches and thorns that slashed at his flesh.

_Dear Kim, _

_What's up? How are you doing? If you can't tell by the mailing address I'm still at Camp Wannaweep. Not much has changed which is good and terrible news at the same time. Update: My butt is finally beginning to feel better the swelling disappeared and the bruises have vanished. (The scoutmaster says the retired circus monkey was eating poison ivy before he attacked me) Other than that I'm __physically__ fine._

Though the branches stung mightily, he still ran. The once youthful expression was replaced by the look of a hunted animal. With tear filled eyes and quick gasps of breath, his legs gave way. He felt himself falling and a loud yelp escaped his lips. After falling in a pile of leaves on his hand and knees, a panicked search revealed that he had tripped over a jutting root. He surged forward with his last burst of energy but it only gained him a few feet more, before he collapsed again.

_You might have heard about the flood on TV and were probably worried. We are OK. The flood actually washed away the nearby clown camp completely. You probably remember from my last letter how scary the clowns were. Well GOOD news the clown camp has merged with ours. So we have clowns walking around, every day now. It's great. By the way did you know that if you accidentally drop a can of hairspray on a campfire it will blowup? I do know now._

The chase was over.

A mini tornado of dust, dirt and leaves rose from the forest floor. He raised his hands in terror as the dirty wind swirled around him. The forest grit cut at his skin but he didn't cry out again until an explosion of white covered his entire body.

The abnormal white light flooded the forest area. A high pitched humming broke the silence of the forest and forced him to cover his ears. But the sound drowned out his very thoughts. He looked up just as a figure emerged from the white light.

_In arts and crafts I made a cast. It can go on a arm or a leg. I made it because there's three weeks left in camp and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need it. Camp Wannaweep official rule number 4 always be prepared! I took pictures of the cast, and the lake and a few other things that give me nightmares every night. I'm going to get my pictures developed today. If I get them back before I mail this, I'll send you some. _

"Y…you're the 'I come in peace' type right?" The boy managed to choke out through his tears. "Th… the… funny... k-kind like… A-A-A-ALF?"

_Oh going back to the clowns, I discovered something scarier than clowns. Getting lost in the woods at night. Guess how I made that discovery? Well it's probably my fault, a squirrel tried to crawl up my pant leg and I ran screaming from my camp buddy (we're supposed to go everywhere in pairs) into the woods. I probably would have never found my way back in the dark if it wasn't for the weird lightning. I call it weird lightning because there was no thunder or rain. And it didn't really flash across, it just kind of hung there. But it was lights in the sky, so it must have been lightning right?_

The large hulking figure stepped forward roaring with laughter. The light grew brighter and everything----the boy, the figure, even the forest vanished within it.

_Thanks for the letter you sent me. It meant/means a lot to me. Coming back home will definitely be the best moment of my life. (Can you guess why?) Just so you know, I don't go out and make friends with every person I see. (Especially not those who throw acorns at me. Which is lots of people) When I look for a friend I look for something special, like the specialness I like about you. You've got so much more specialness than everyone in this camp it's not even funny. So you don't need to worry. I'll never forget about you! Because that would be impossible, Kim Possible HA!_

_You never know how much of a best friend someone is until you are far away from them. I got to get going. Talk to you soon. Miss you like crazy. Take it easy KP. _

_Love,  
Ron_

_PS: I forgot to ask my parents in my last letter could you ask them how long has it been since I had a tetanus shot?_

The light faded. The dark woods returned. The creatures of the night resumed their nocturnal tasks and the leaves rustled in the wind

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**Middleton Colorado**

**July 15, 1992 3:30 PM**

Kim was laying on the couch with her legs flung over the back and her head hanging odd the edge . Her hair almost brushed the floor as she swished it back and forth.

"Mooooooooooommmm!"

Anne Possible rushed into the living room and her eyes fell upon her daughter.

"Kim, what have I said about lying upside down?"

"No time" Kim blurted out. Then she pointed at the television screen a few feet from the couch.

Anne sighed as she turned towards the T.V. She was greeted by a thirty second burst of little boys leaping back and forth shouting "cool" and "awesome" followed by a man in a brown rat costume staring at the camera and inquiring if the viewer "was ready to be a fierce fighter of freakish foes?"

Anne turned towards her daughter. "Um?"

"It's the Ferret Claw!"

"And?"

The ten year old sighed as well. "Fearless Ferret is Ron's favorite hero. We need to get him the claw as a welcome home present!"

"Oh."

Anne smiled the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place. Her daughter had been getting increasingly jumpy as the day of her best friend's return rapidly approached. She reflected on it and conceded that getting the boy a welcome back gift was a very sweet idea.

"I'll think about it, only if you learn to sit properly." She announced.

Kim groaned out loud before maneuvering her body around. She sat up straight and stared expectantly at her mother.

"Now when is Ron supposed to return?"

Grinning Kim reached into the folds of the couch and pulled out worn and torn calendar. She held it up and even being half way across the room Anne could see the bright red circle around a particular date. Kim held the calendar out to her mother; Anne quickly moved to receive it.

"Hmmm, doesn't look like we have much time," she said after looking down at the date. "If we hurry we can get to the mall in……"

Kim gleefully applauded her mother's decision. She had just hopped off the couch when someone coughed in the room. Both female Possible's turned towards the source of the noise. Neither had noticed when James Possible had arrived but his very presence now seemed to overpower everything else in the room. He cleared his throat once again to break the seemingly long silence that had lasted but a few seconds.

"Anne, can I speak to you in the kitchen for a moment?"

Kim watched her parents curiously as they walked away from her. She wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glimpse of her father looking back at her before he pushed through the kitchen doors. But Kim brushed the atmosphere off and returned to her upside down position. Hopefully she mused her mother wouldn't forget about their trip to the mall.

Fifteen or so minutes later both Possibles reentered the room hand in hand. Their eyes traveled from the floor then back to their daughter. Without her mother's lecturing Kim fixed her seating position. Something was wrong. Something was off about the vibes in the room.

"Kim," her father said. "We need to talk."

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**Saskatchewan, Canada**

**August 5, 1992 9: 30 AM**

The four horsemen rode abreast through the forest. Four steely eyed men with frightful determination on their faces. Proudly they wore their distinctive Red Serge, which consisted of a high collared scarlet tunic, midnight blue breeches with yellow leg strip, brown riding boots, brown gloves and a brown flat brimmed Stetson hat. They were known worldwide as fearsome, incorruptible, dogged yet gentle champions of the law. They were the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, AKA "The Mounties."

"Here's what I'm saying," said one rider. "They say we always get our man right? Well how are we supposed to get our man, if there is no man?"

"Only the fool complains during peace time," said a second man.

"Come on Andrew, I am not asking for World War three. I'm just saying we need some action. Something to make wearing the uniform worth it. I want to feel what the uniform means."

"Even if you get killed Jerry?" Inquired a third Mountie

"Even if I get killed Bill," Jerry replied.

Andrew spat onto the forest floor. "Well we're all on a mission right now. So shut it and focus on work."

Jerry waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Ah some mission, weird lights in the sky, it was probably a rainbow."

"At night?"

"Aurora Borealis then."

Unbeknown to the others the fourth member of the group had ridden up ahead during their conversation. They only became aware of the situation when he returned to the group in full gallop.

"What's the problem Ace?" Jerry said when he saw the excitement on the man's face.

"You fellows are not going to believe this."

He turned himself around and wordlessly the group followed him. They marched through a clearing to discover a bowl shaped depression in the forest floor. The crater was at least 15 meters wide in diameter. The soil contained within was darker than usual and bare of any sign on vegetation.

"What in the world?" Jerry muttered.

"You think that's strange," Ace exclaimed. He pointed to the middle of the crater. "Look."

All eyes followed his finger and fell on the small boy with no clothes on, covered in mud and dead leaves huddled in the fetal position.

"Is the job too boring for you now Jerry?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How is the boy doctor?"

Ace, Jerry, Bill and Andrew surrounded the anxious doctor. It had been a few days since they had delivered the boy to the hospital. After reporting to their superiors the very next day the four men were ordered to be discreet about their discovery. Even with their misgivings about the circumstances surrounding the child's discovery, they couldn't help but be worried about his well being.

They brought the boy clothing and toys but whenever they visited he had been asleep. The nurses remarked that the boy had spent most of his time since his admittance fast asleep. They remarked having rarely seen this level of weariness in a child.

"Well compared to normal children his age, he's physical fine," the doctor informed them. "No sign of any diseases or any trauma to his body."

"So he's doing well? Jerry asked.

"Well." The doctor removed his glasses and sighed. "We did a CAT scan and it revealed irregularities in his long-term memory centers, and……we can't even begin to explain how it happened, or how to treat him."

"What are you saying?" Frank asked.

"I'm saying, prior to you all bringing him in… he doesn't remember anything… at all about his life."

"He's got amnesia?" Ace said in wonderment.

"Retrograde amnesia….very advanced. But there's no sign of injury or brain trauma. His memory…for the lack of a better phrase has been wiped clean."

The four officers of the law glanced worriedly at each other. They had found the boy naked with no sort of I.D on him. The missing children reports so far didn't have anything that matched the boy's description. And with the gag order against talking to the press, things were getting much more complicated than they could have imagined.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Now you leave the boy to me," a gruff voice called out.

An older man with graying hair, wearing a long brown trench coat approached them. The smell from the cigarette that he was smoking reached them before he did.

"The boy is in my custody now."

"Who are you?" Jerry asked.

Still in stride the man pulled his hand from his coat and flashed a badge. "Joe" he said simply before brushing past the four men and the doctor.

The fair headed boy was staring at the ceiling when the man named Joe walked into the room. He looked the boy over.

"What's your name kid?"

The boy turned to him with a blank expression on his face. He shrugged lightly before his eyes began to glisten.

Joe took in a deep breath. "Wrap it up doctor; I'm taking this one to go."

"What?" The doctor stammered. "But he's not…."

"He's coming with me" He proclaimed before flashing his badge again. "Pack up a lunch for him as well. He's got a long ride ahead of him."

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**Middleton, Colorado**

**April 3, 1993 11 AM**

She tried not to be sad anymore. But no matter what, something in her memory brought tears to Kim's eyes. The typical reaction was for her to bury her face in her pillow, and weep until she tired of it. After wiping the tears from her red eyes this very morning Kim made her way downstairs. She discovered her parents standing by a living room window. They were whispering to each other which made it apparent that they hadn't noticed their daughter's arrival. As Kim inched closer she began to pick up on their conversation, even though much of it was beyond her understanding.

"Health code violations… they found some clothes by the lake. Everyone is assuming he… it might be too large to drain… felony reckless endangerment of minors… class action civil suit… doesn't bring their son back… you can see how much it hurts them… I don't blame them… I couldn't live in that house with all those memories… yes but isn't it just a tad impulsive… to just pack up and leave without telling anyone? Without telling us! … It makes sense they're moving, cut all ties, it must hurt too much…"

The word "moving" echoed in Kim's mind. The Possible's turned away from the window just in time to see their daughter rush out the door. Hot renewed tears ran down Kim's face as she rushed into the Stoppable front yard. Mr. Stoppable was helping his wife load a few boxes into the back of their minivan, when Kim slammed into the lower half of his body. She wiped her tear soaked face against his midsection.

"You can't leave; if you leave Ron can't find his way back home."

Mr. Stoppable glanced at his wife and she began to tear up. He turned back to Kim, a sad look in his eyes.

"He can't come home if there's no home to come back to!" She cried out loud. "He isn't gone! He will come back! I know he will!" Then crying into Mr. Stoppable's shirt she whispered, "He's, he's my best friend, forever. Why, why?"

The moment that passed seemed like an eternity, neither adult knew what to say or to do.

Mr. Stoppable had opened his mouth to speak when Kim felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. James Possible apologized to the Stoppables, wished them well and pulled his daughter away by the hand. She struggled against her father and shouted out to Mr. Stoppable who gazed down at the floor. They're giving up Kim thought. They were all giving up. Not once in her short life had "giving up" not been synonymous to losing.

Anne was waiting on the porch where Mr. Possible sat his daughter down and explained. Explaining why they were all giving up, though Kim was too distraught to understand fully. She was still wiping away tears when Mrs. Stoppable appeared. She handed Kim a paper that was mostly coated in mud excluding bits of the bottom portion.

"This was found in the woods." She said. "It's the last thing we have from Ron, but you should have it. It was addressed to you."

Kim accepted the letter. Much of it was unreadable. However she could make up just a few lines.

_You never know how much of a best friend someone is until you are far away from them. I got to get going. Talk to you soon. Miss you like crazy. Take it easy KP. _

_Love,  
Ron_

Kim swiped at the back of her eyes wondering if it would always hurt this much.

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**Toronto, Canada**

**June 15, 1993 10:45 PM**

The television blared loudly as Joe leaned back into the grooves of his couch. His seemingly focused on the T.V but his mind soon wandered back into the not to distant past. The strange readings in the sky above the area where the ten year old John Doe had been recovered had caught the attention of a top secret Canadian intelligence organization. They then sent their best agent to investigate. Though he had taken the unusual job with much reluctance, he rationalized it as a simple assignment that would ease him towards the path of retirement.

Joe's eyes shifted from the television when he heard movement coming from another room. It was a small apartment and with his trained hearing not much would get by without him knowing. He listened for a moment before returning his attention to the television.

If you factor in what they did with very limited funding, the Canadian spy organization was likely one of the best in the world. However a recession had hit the country hard and budget cuts had to be made. The organization simply did not have enough lab space to house the boy for long. And with a severe case of amnesia the boy hadn't given them much information. Surprising the top brass and himself, Joe petitioned for permanent custody over the boy. The child would live out his life under his supervision, all the while undergoing additional tests. He got his wish, and was praised for his dedication to his work. Though the truth of the matter was the boy with no identity had grown on him. Losing large if not most of your memory would likely have crushed a grown man, but the kid, he appeared to have come out of the event emotionally stable. It happened to be that the boy was very odd, but Joe did not believe that to have been a product of any trauma. There was a subtle inner strength to the boy that really intrigued the old veteran.

He turned away from breaking news coverage just in time to see the child walk into the room with a small doll in hand. Joe recalled when the boy had caught sight of the doll at a garage sale. He had taken notes as the child had stared curiously at the doll for a long period of time before requesting for it to be purchased. It was one of the many strange occurrences he had with the kid.

"Nightmares again boy?"

He nodded. "Yeah… and don't call me boy, call me Little Joe."

Joe snorted. "How many times have I told you, your name is not "Little Joe!"

"What is my name then?"

"How should I know?" Joe exclaimed.

"Then why can't I be called "Little Joe?"

"Because it's… it's just… it's just wrong." Joe sputtered.

"Why?"

Joe sighed. "So what did you dream about?"

Little Joe shrugged before crawling onto the couch. "The usual, scary stuff, big green guys… scary stuff."

Joe chewed on this tidbit. Something like that probably should have been added to his reports he mused. Though truth be told, he probably should have reported _something_ this past year.

Joe returned to the news coverage. "Hey boy."

"Little Joe."

Joe grunted in response. "You see this news coverage."

Ron eyed the television. On the screen there was a politician pounding at his fist against a podium. Seated behind him was a single row of supporters applauding enthusiastically.

"Yeah but it's boring, you don't mind if I change the channel do you?"

"Test time kid."

This time it was Little Joe's time to sigh. "Not again."

Joe's arm whipped out quickly and covered the little boy's eyes with his palm.

"Joe, I don't wanna…"

"How many men were seated in that row?" the man asked.

"Child services would love this."

"How many?" Joe repeated. "Oh and, whether or not fudge cake Fridays continues, depends heavily on how well you do right now."

"Oh man……..There are seven guys." Little Joe declared,

"Good……How many hats?"

"Ugh, come on, Joe!

"You want those cakes right? How many hats?"

"Four…."

"You know better, you got to describe them."

"Ugh... There are five hats… two baseball caps from middle aged guys, one red cap, one blue cap, the red one is of a hockey team the blue is of a baseball team… I think… I don't know much about baseball …the guy with the eye patch is wearing a top hat." Little Joe paused briefly to laugh. "He looks a little like Mr. Peanut."

"Go on."

"The last one is an old lady with a straw hat with a bunch of tiny flower petals and a lion on it."

"Good work," Joe said as he pulled his hand away from the boy's face.

"Thank you!" the boy exhaled. "Why do I have to do this every day?"

"Because it's good for you."

"How?"

"Well for one it can be applied to all aspects of life. Heck women want men who pick up every small details. They love it. It's about tuning into people, getting inside their heads and anticipating their needs…and desires."

Joe glanced over at the blond boy who stared blankly at him. "Hey while you're in my house, you're going to do the work the school gives you and you're going to do the work I give you."

"But I already get homework!"

"Some more work won't kill you and besides… I mean… hey you're sharpening your mind too. If you train your mind you might get your memories back."

The boy closed his eyes and reopened them a beat or so later. Before leaning over and nestling his head against a couch pillow.

"If I get my memory back, will I know who am I?"

"I'm pretty sure that's how it works."

The reality of the situation was, the boy did not necessarily need his memories to regain his identity. It was something Joe had been considering more and more in the recent weeks. The organization's initial search of the boy's background had come up with nothing. However there was no question they could have dug deeper if they cared. It was a rare thing for someone to go completely off the grid. The boy was someone's son, he was a family member, he was likely a friend, or at the very least an acquaintance. Joe looked over at the resting form with the red headed doll clutched under his arm. He concluded certain favors would have to be called in.

"Aren't you a little too old to be playing with dolls?"

"I am," Little Joe replied.

"So?" Joe gestured to the doll in the boy's embrace.

"This isn't a doll, this an action figure," the child claimed.

"Ah," Joe said as he chuckled to himself.

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**Middleton, Colorado**

**July 9, 1995 5 AM**

It was the first light of dawn when a jogger spotted them shuffling past the entrance of the city park hand in hand. Recognition of the boy came immediately, it was the fourth day since the boy had gone missing and his face had been plastered all over the newspapers. The jogger rushed towards a nearby patrolman and alerted him to the situation. By the time the morning sun had illuminated the sky, the law had picked up thirteen year old Kim Possible and the little boy she had in tow.

"What is your connection to the Treadle boy?" The chief detective asked. He was a big intimidating man but as he stood before the girl seated across from his desk, his broad shoulders were clearly slumped.

"I'm his babysitter," Kim stated. "I've earned a reputation babysitting difficult kids."

The chief detective traded looks with the patrolman.

"What?" He exclaimed.

"Start from the beginning." The patrolman told Kim.

Kim inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Four nights ago I got a phone call at home from Mrs. Treadle. She's a long time client. It was an emergency request to watch her daughter, Lauren. I got a little suspicious about this since the Treadle's were always a packaged deal. Lauren and her younger brother Alex. I asked if he was okay, and Mrs. Treadle started crying. She told me about how Alex had gone missing, about how nobody knew where he went but the janitor had found Alex's lunch box, and it contained a note for the Treadle's. So the cops… you guys were already involved but Mrs. and Mr. Treadle wanted to spend a few hours at the police department. They didn't have any family nearby and so they wanted me to take care of Lauren."

"Get to the point little lady," the chief detective muttered under his breath.

"Um, OK," Kim nodded. "The next morning I started the investigation."

"Investigation?" The detective exclaimed.

"Old Bill," Kim blurted out suddenly.

"Who the heck is old Bill?"

"All the kids know about Old Bill in the neighborhood. He's this really old guy who according to the rumors lives in the park in a tree house that was built by some kids a long time ago. Anyway you can see him talking to himself and collecting soda cans around the school most days of the week. He smells like beer."

"You know what beer smells like?" The patrolman asked.

"I know what old bill smells like," Kim replied with a grin.

"The point!" the chief detective declared.

"Old Bill sees everything, at least that's what he says… at least that's what he told me. Sometimes when you treat him nicely, like if you give him canned food or something…." Kim glanced at the patrolman. "I gave him some for thanksgiving last year. Most kids are afraid of him but he's actually a nice guy, y'know."

The patrolman smiled back at her. "A good girl."

"When you do something nice for Bill, he'll tell you a secret about the neighborhood, even if you didn't ask. That's his reward, you can't escape it. He'll tell you who egged the principle's car, or who let his dog use Mr. Tidbit's lawn like a bathroom. You'd ask Bill how he knows all these things and he'll tell you he sees everything."

Kim paused for a moment before continuing. "It was long shot but I had to try, I found Bill sleeping on a bench in the park. I asked him if he saw anything strange by the school yesterday. It took a long time, and a few bags of potato chips for him to remember but eventually he told me he almost got hit by a beat up gray VW van that burning rubber away from the school around the time Mrs. Treadle said her son had gone missing."

"Why didn't you tell anybody about this?" the chief detective shouted.

"I did, I called the Treadles, and I told Mr. Treadle before I continued the investigation."

"We didn't get…"

The room grew silent. The chief detective shot the patrolman a look and to Kim's surprise the man quickly sped out of the room.

"Keep going," the detective said.

"Since there was a note left behind I assumed that at least they hadn't left the state or the country you know. They must be asking for a ransom and they were probably close by. I called all my clients, and I have a lot of parent clients, and asked them to keep a look out for the van. I even posted something on my website, followed by some mass emails. I caught a break two nights ago. Mr. Martin, Jake and Johnny's Martin's dad... He works nights at the Super Mini Mart and he left a message on my site that someone who had shopped there had just hopped into a van that looked like what I described."

"Did you tell Mr. Treadle about this?"

Kim shook his head. "Nope, when I read the message that morning I just hopped on my bike and rode… I guess I didn't think about it."

"No, you didn't, you were reckless. Still, finish the story."

Kim sniffed and continued, "The guy brought toilet paper."

The detective waited for the significance of this statement.

"Would you drive a long way just to buy toilet paper?" Kim asked. "That's what I thought, so for the entire day I pedaled up and down the streets around the Super Mini Mart. Night came, and I'd almost given up when I saw it… just drive by. It wasn't moving that fast, I guess it wasn't trying to draw attention by speeding. So I followed it. Luckily no one inside the car noticed. I followed the van through the park and to a house in Springfield Blvd. I waited across the street for like a long time just watching and then I snuck around peeking into the windows just to see how many people were in the house. It looked like there was only one."

"So what did you do then?"

"I rang the doorbell."

"Are you serious?" The detective said skeptically.

Kim nodded. "I rang it a lot, eventually he opened the door."

"And?"

"I kicked him," Kim said simply.

"You kicked him?!"

"I study martial arts. It's my hobby."

The detective glanced up at the heavens and muttered something under his breath.

"To be specific, I kicked him in the um … it was the hardest kick I ever executed. My sifu would have been proud if y'know, he didn't stress having a nonviolent approach."

"Did he attack you?"

"He just crumpled like a sack of flour with a whimper… I searched the house and found Alex in the basement, and then we escaped."

The room grew quiet as the chief detective as the detective plopped himself onto the chair beside his desk. Eventually the silence was broken when the patrolman reentered the room.

"I pressed Mr. Treadle on it and it seems that the little girl's info had slipped his mind… Because of the grief, he was too busy mourning."

The hint of sarcasm in the man's voice was obvious to Kim and the detective.

"Mrs. Treadle's father is a wealthy venture capitalist…." The detective announced more to himself than to anyone else in the room.

"Sir if I recall, Mr. Treadle lost his job earlier this year, he was a public defender…" The patrolman's voice trailed off. "Also the ransom asked was way more than the Treadle's themselves had."

Kim and the detective's eyes met before he turned back to the patrolman. "We can discuss our theories at a more appropriate time. I'd like to finish my chat with Little Miss reckless here."

Kim wilted under the detective's gaze as the patrolman walked out. "Little lady, you do realize you're part in all this is over."

"Yes I do."

"You do realize how reckless you've been?"

"Yes Sir."

"You put your life and the little boy's life in tremendous danger!"

"I'm sorry."

"I've got your parent's out there bawling their eyes out wondering where their little girl has been!"

Kim's gaze lowered to the ground. The detective leaned deeper into his seat. "You made all the wrong moves today. But I give credit when it is due. You saved that boy. Things could have gone so wrong but thankfully it didn't, and so you're a hero."

Kim looked back up at the detective with a thin smile. "Thank you."

"Here's my question though. When you found the hideout why didn't you call us?"

"Well I think…it's just that…..I don't….trust…." Kim paused and bit down on her bottom lip. "It's hard to explain."

"Explain what?"

Kim opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. She then sat back and considered her words carefully. The thing is I know that …at least…I….I know for sure I won't give up."

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**Toronto, California**

**September 2, 1995 7 AM**

"I'm not sure I can do this."

"Hmmmm?" Joe mumbled to himself as he and his teen-aged "temporarily adopted" son stood before the entrance of the airport terminal.

"I can't go, I don't know these people." The teen stated.

Joe lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag from it. "They're Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, they're currently living in Boca Raton Florida, they've got good credit and a fine yet isolated ranch house with white picket fences. But more importantly they're your parents. DNA proves it"

"They're my parent's, right, but am I their son?"

Joe's face scrunched up in confusion. "What part of DNA did you not understand the D, the N, or the A?"

Joe had explained everything to the boy weeks ago when he finally located the Stoppables. The intentions behind the adoption, the tests, who his parents really where; everything, as little as it was, that Joe knew had been revealed. The boy was fairly shocked, and he was even a tad apprehensive to the idea that he was an American. But it made sense, no one in Canada in had any idea that he had existed prior to his discovery a few years ago. Joe had told the boy that whenever he felt ready, there was a plane ticket ready to take him back to his family. Today was the day of his departure or so Joe had thought.

"I don't remember them or anything about my past life. When I saw their picture I saw strangers. They have memories of who their son was, what he liked, what he disliked, his dreams and desires. I don't have any clue who I was or how I acted back them. What if they expect their son back Joe, I don't know how to be that. I know how to be little Joe not Ronald Stoppable."

Joe blew out a puff of smoke. "So what? Are you doing them a favor by never letting them see the son they lost? I'm sure the fact that you might not remember you like strawberry pancakes won't negate the fact their long lost son is alive in well……"

"Joe I…I never thought about it like that"

Joe flicked his cigarette and stomped on it. "Well you're an idiot. I don't doubt you always were."

He pulled a pack pocket and pulled out another cigarette. "Boy, I will not tell you what to do. Honestly I've grown accustomed to you. I mean who else is going to mow my lawn during the weekends? But the problem is, every other morning you get out of bed with that 'who am I?' look, and it just kills any morning buzz I might have had."

Joe placed the cigarette in his lips and let it hang there while he stared blankly at the terminal. "Now you can stay and continue on as-"

"Little Joe," the teen interrupted.

Joe glowered at him before continuing, "Or you can go back to America and find out what Ronald Stoppable is all about."

The veteran spy smiled proudly when his adopted son nodded slowly. "You're right, I have to figure this all out. I wouldn't be able to live with myself without knowing."

Snapping his lighter open Joe brought the flame to the tip of his cigarette. "Good, now get your ass on that plane."

The young boy stepped forward before stopping."You think I can do it Joe? Figure it all out?"

"You'd better….Or else I really wasted my time drilling my vast resource of cloak and dagger knowledge into your pea brain."

Joe closed his eyes closed as he chuckled to himself before letting out a deep sigh. When he reopened his eyes the boy was one step away from entering the terminal.

"Hey little Joe…."

The boy stopped mid-step.

"I mean Ron Stoppable….." Joe blurted out.

He turned towards Joe.

"Above all, take care of yourself. And find yourself a nice girlfriend already."

Before Ron could reply, Joe had turned on his heels and hastily marched down the block.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Washington, D.C.**

**January 2 2003 8:45 PM**

It was a relatively small room. Not even half the size of the meeting room for AA but at least it wasn't as small as the "Help, I'm addicted to work" club room.

Soft music bounced across the walls as paired off group members hugged and whispered to each other in emotional tones. Near the entrance there was a sign on a stand that read "Paranormal support group: Otherworldly ties keep us connected and strong."

The hushed talks and bouts of uncontrollable weeping came to an abrupt end when a man stepped up to a lectern in the middle of the room and addressed the members. The speaker had pale skin and sunken eyes, though when compared to almost everyone else in the room, he appeared to be vibrant and full of life.

"We have a newcomer in our midst. So to begin tonight's communion, John would like to say a few words."

Taking the lectern was John, a man who looked twice as miserable and sickly as the speaker. He smiled back at the speaker, but his tired eyes and the crow's feet in their corners told a different the story.

John leaned into the lectern's microphone. "My name is John Hunt and though I don't think it can be considered paranormal…My story is, I'm the victim of mind control."

A murmur of whispers went through the crowd. It was a somewhat positive response so John continued.

"That's right, mind control, or psychotropic terror. I can understand if you're skeptical about it. But the bottom line is agents of the government are using secret technology to broadcast hostile voices into my head and cause me pain via waves of electromagnetic radiation."

Suddenly John groaned and grabbed his head. He doubled over in pain. The room went silent. Eventfully John would take a deep breath, straighten up and wipe the sweat off his fore head with his sleeve.

"I'm fine," He sighed. "This happens rather often. I've learned online that there are thousands of people like me suffering with same problem."

He rubbed his temples in circular motions with his middle and index fingers. "Problem is no one believes me."

"That's not true!" Someone shouted from the back of the room. All eyes turned to Ron as he jumped up from his seat in the back of the room and marched forward to the lectern. In his enthusiastic haste he almost tripped over three different pairs of feet, but in the end he managed to reach the John without being knocked completely off balance. After smoothing out his dark suit and his tie he gingerly took control of the microphone from John.

"Guys, my name is Ronald Stoppable, formerly known as "little Joe." I don't remember any part of my life before I woke up naked and alone in the Canadian woods. In addition I have weird but brief nightmares featuring nano-second flashes of armored hulking figures in green. But that's not why I'm here."

"I'm here to be motivated. I do my best…. Well, any work really… when I'm motivated and focused. And what is my motivation you ask?" Ron pointed at the group members. "You guys."

The group members responded with incredulous looks but Ron continued to smile. "You guys are my motivation. I'm here for you. See I've profiled you, I know you didn't ask to be profiled, I apologize, but it's something that was drilled into me, among other techniques a child shouldn't need, by my surrogate father. Now I profile all the time, even when I don't want to…..I profile I deduct, induct, whatever….it's what I do I can't turn it off….Though I try not to by watching lots and lots of cable television…."

The room went silent.

"Anyway I've profiled you all, against your and my will; I've heard your stories, I've looked into your eyes, I've analyzed your words and actions, I glimpse from you the echoes of truth that blossom forth every time I look into a mirror!"

"Except for you Bob," Ron pointed at the front row. "You're obviously lying for attention. But the rest of you, I believe you."

He continued to point. "Kasey I feel your pain. Though waking up naked in the woods is probably not on par with wandering the streets of the city in only your pajama bottoms, I'm still on your wavelength. And don't stop painting girlfriend, I'm sure those vivid yet abstract blobs of green immersed in colorful lights mean something."

"Frank you were born in 1870 that's freaky. But because of that eerie smoke that enveloped you in 1905 you're now in our time. And I know iPods freak you out, but dude you're over a hundred and you don't look a day over thirty. The silver lining Frank, embrace it."

He turned to John. "I know you've got a beef with the government but we're not all that bad. Someday things will change and we'll be helping you I know we will."

"We?" John muttered.

"Oh right, that's probably a little premature. I can't really say I'm part of the, 'The Man', until I've passed the written exam this afternoon. Don't count your chickens right? Knock on wood No Jinx."

Ron checked his watch. "Oh I better get moving or I'll be late for said test…. OK folks, my motivation, I leave you with the words of a classic song, 'there are only two kinds of truth. Let's get it straight from the start. It's all what you believe baby in your head and in your heart'."

Ron slapped his hands onto the lectern. "Guys, I want to believe…."

He pounded his chest with his fist three times before kissing his fingers and then throwing up the peace sign. "Ron Stoppable, seeker of truth, soon to be at your service."

He left the members with their confusion as he turned quickly and marched out of the room

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Middleton, Colorado**

**December 18, 2005 8:45 PM**

The brisk and biting wind caused the former detective now captain to shiver lightly. Once the rendezvous was over the first thing he would do is finally put his promotion money to good use, and buy himself a nice coat. Hearing footsteps behind him the Captain turned around and found a woman standing right in front of him.

He remembered when she was just a reckless teen.

She smiled, "Congratulations on your promotion Captain."

"Ah well it's not a big deal…it's not like I didn't get some help every now and then."

Kim continued to smile.

"Enough about me, what about you? Is that criminal justice degree coming anytime?"

The book bag that Kim had been carrying across her shoulders hit the floor. She reached down and unzipped it.

"Actually I got the degree awhile ago, part of a double major including biology." Kim replied casually as she dug through her bag.

"Fantastic. What are you doing now?"

Kim removed a sharpie and a folded map from her bag. She began to slowly unfold the map. "Currently you could say I'm in medical school."

The captain chuckled. This girl, no this woman, would never cease to amaze him.

"I can't even call you ambitious; it's not a strong enough word."

Kim unfurled the map of the city before dotting various sections of it.

"Let me get one thing across right now Miss Medical School. None of this 'civilian arrest–wannabe Batman-stuff' this time. I'm putting my foot down on that issue."

Kim continued pressing dots against the map. "I promise this time I won't interfere, I'm actually falling behind on my schoolwork anyway, so I can't. That being said I think I got a huge break on the winter bomber case."

"I'm shocked!" The captain exclaimed sarcastically. "A strange world we're in, when a civilian and not the dozens of experienced officers working around the clock cracks a case."

Making no sign that she had heard his crack Kim continued. "So let's start back at that first incident that occurred on the first day of November. In the middle of the night someone spray painted the phrase, 'Hell vow I', on the doorway to the mayor's office before blowing up a nearby mail box that was apparently stuffed with toys…."

The Captain nodded; if asked he would easily admit that this entire ordeal was the strangest situation he'd ever seen in all his years on the force. After the first incident a month ago every three days a mailbox, a parked car, or a trashcan exploded in some random location in the city. The casualties had been surprisingly low, mostly due to the fact that much of the bombs had gone off at night. His gut feeling though, was that this pattern would not last forever. The Captain and many others in the department felt that all the initial bombings were nothing more than practice. That and taunts aimed at the police.

"'Hell vow I', is an anagram." Kim said suddenly.

"For what?"

"Whoville."

"What?!!"

"And remember the bombing two weeks ago on Terrance Blvd near Joey's diner. A windshield of a parked car of a retired police officer that lived nearby also has spray paint on it."

"Righteous seeds lose," the Captain said. "That's what it said."

"Another anagram, Kim muttered as she continued to dot the map. "That stands for Theodore Seuss Geisel."

"Dr. Seuss?!!"

"Bingo, Dr Seuss plus Whoville…you've got a wannabe Grinch on your hands Captain."

The captain blinked rapidly at her before speaking again. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish," Kim scoffed. "It didn't make sense to me at first but there's a pattern. Do you see these marked dots?"

Kim showed the officer the map. "Each dot represents the location of where a bomb went off."

The Captain surveyed the locations and nodded.

"Now look what happens when I connect the dots like this." Kim went to work with the sharpie. "Bear with me… this might seem… a little nutty…."

"It went beyond nutty when the first bomb went off."

Kim finished and handed the map to the captain. He looked down at what appeared to be the outline of a tree. He glanced at the map, then at Kim, then back at the map.

"Are…are you serious?"

"Unfortunately……yes"

He placed his hand against Kim's forehead. "Feeling well?"

"I double checked my temperature right before this meeting. Seuss, Whoville, the Christmas tree pattern on the map…..There's a connection."

"An insane connection." Using his thumb and forefinger the captain massaged his forehead. "Listen kid you can't win them all, me and the boys will figure something out…

"Wait before you give up on my theory hear me out. What goes on top of a tree?"

The captain sighed with exasperation. "A star?"

Kim hastily drew a star at the top of the Christmas tree outline. "Do you see the location of the star?"

The captain stared down at the map. The star was located right over the recently built super mall.

"Christmas…the super mall…this time of the year it'll be packed. That's probably his main target; the rest of the stuff is practice"

She caught the captain's gaze. "This is all an assumption of course, but this guy is a Christmas freak. And if I'm wrong thank goodness, but if I'm right… I am sure that you sense that all these initial bombings are nothing more than practice. It wouldn't hurt anyone to set up a few eyes and maybe some traps at the mall during shopping hours. There is a mad bomber loose in the city and extra precautions are necessary Captain."

Kim watched anxiously as he paced back and forth before her.

Eventually he snorted loudly and turned to face her. "And if I don't follow through with this I'm sure you will."

Kim brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I am prepared to drop a course or two. I can make it up over the summer."

The captain shook his head. "How come you didn't become a cop? You would make one hell of detective."

A tinge of red came to Kim's cheeks. "Well I never thought I… I am comfortable with the set up we have now but… I don't know I just, I just want to help."

"Is that right?" The captain smiled.

"Besides," Kim shrugged. "Like I said Medical school."

"You're right kid. Who has ever heard of a part time cop going through medical school?"

Before Kim could reply he continued. "But I know some guys who might not mind such an arrangement."

The captain placed his hand in the air. Immediately a parked suburban across the street came to life.

"Wish you could have been in my department kid, but Que sera sera."

"Uh, what's going on?" Kim inquired.

"Listen I'm going to run this past some of my boys. In the meantime you can keep my friends company."

"Um…what is--"

The shiny suburban stopped on a dime before Kim. Two men in black suits and dark sun glasses stepped out. Kim looked towards the Captain but he was already half way down the block.

"Miss Possible it's a pleasure to finally meet you." The youngest and baldest of the men stated.

Having been genuinely unnerved by this mysterious run in Kim looked from one man to the other. "I'd hate to be rude. But who are you guys and what do you what?"

"We are two men who have become very impressed with you." The second man declared. "And we would like to talk to you about your future prospects."

He reached into his vest. Grinning broadly he flashed Kim a badge. She quickly read the inscription and found herself impressed.

On the top of the badge the words Federal Bureau of Investigation were boldly inscribed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Washington, D.C.**

**May, 2009 9:15 AM**

Kim was bringing the spoon up to her mouth when another agent stood before her booth. It was her lunch hour; she was in the cafeteria and had just gotten into a nice rhythm with her black bean soup when he arrived. She didn't like people interrupting her lunch. But her irritation soon dissipated when he handed her a note.

"You know they could have emailed it to me…or maybe called?" Kim called after the agent as he walked away.

She pushed her lunch aside and read the letter.

"_Your attendance is required in Washington at 1500 hours sharp. Contact Special Agent Martin_."

Orders from above no doubt. Well, she would be there; perhaps she would even show up early. She had a mind of her own but she obeyed her orders to the letter. That's what made her the agent the F.B.I liked best. It's what had gotten her this far.

At exactly fifteen to three Kim was at the F.B.I headquarters. She flashed the receptionist her badge. "I'm here for my appointment with---"

"Agent Possible," a gravelly voice said behind her. "You're here early, as expected."

She turned to face a large, scar faced man. He appeared to be in his 50s. Kim was not familiar with the man but she could guess who he was.

"Martin," he said before she could say a word. "Follow me."

He led her down a long and empty hallway. Having never been in this part of the Bureau, Kim attempted to take in as much as she could. That is she would have taken in all she could, if the only thing to look at wasn't wall paper and the cold marble floor.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"You're here for a very high level interview," Martin said. "Are you game for it?"

"Of course."

Martin ushered her through two sets of double doors. Coming through the last door she entered a conference room. Inside three men sat around an oval table, their eyes went right to Kim. Most of them looked to be in there 60s, Kim knew Bureau top brass when she saw them.

"Agent Possible please take a seat," Jones said. Kim took a seat at the table and Jones remained standing behind her.

Once she took her seat Kim finally noticed a fourth man in the room. He leaned against a file cabinet in the back room, and he had the long end of a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.

The man who spoke first looked to be the oldest one in the room. Though he was old he still had a hard steely gaze.

"Agent Possible, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"My pleasure," Kim replied.

"Now Agent Possible we see you've been with us for two very impressive years now."

"Yes sir."

"Now it's my understanding that you have an undergraduate degree in criminal justice and biology. You then graduated medical school. But you chose not to practice. Why is that?"

"Well, sir, I was recruited out of medical school. I thought about it for awhile but I came to see the F.B.I. as a place where I could distinguish myself and do some good. When I graduated I completed my residency here while completing my Academy training and then working full time."

The three men at the table leafed through thick folders. For a long while the only sound in the room was paper rustling. Eventually they exchanged furtive glances and nods. The man with the lollipop walked around to behind the first speaker and leaned against the wall.

Then a second man suddenly asked, "Are you familiar with the name Ronald Stoppable?"

The name blew through the guard Kim had placed since her meeting with Agent Martin. Her mind blanked for a moment before distant memories began to trickle into her head.

Kim shook it off.

A coincidence she thought. Strange things like this happened all the time. In college she had run into a woman named Erin who was eerily similar to herself.

"Can you repeat that sir?

"Are you familiar with an agent named, Ronald Stoppable?" The second man repeated.

"I can't say that I am."

"What about the name, weirdo Ron?" The first man declared.

Kim nodded. "Vaguely, I believe I've heard the name in passing at the Academy."

Martin cleared his throat. "I assure you that Ronald Stoppable; while he may have… a few unorthodox professional methods… and unusual personal conduct… he is a very capable agent. He graduated from the University of Florida with a degree in psychology and a minor in sociology."

"From the University of Florida," the third man snorted. "Anyone off the street can graduate from that school."

"Unorthodox professional methods?" Kim stated.

"Agent Stoppable prefers a more human, interpersonal and intuitive set of methods."

"He applied through the website," the third veteran declared.

Martin nodded. "However, the highest score on the written exam in a decade belongs to Agent Stoppable."

"Really?" Kim stated as she attempted to recall her own score.

"He did terrible during the physical test."

"Initially," Martin went on. "However as the test went on he showed remarkable stamina."

The room grew silent.

Martin took in a deep breath. "During Agent Stoppable's first few years his rather astute observational and profiling skills has aided many, many investigations that had once been presumed to have gone cold."

The first man bluntly interrupted him. "Unfortunately, on his own Agent Stoppable has developed a strong…interest…no obsession, a complete obsession with what we call the X Files. Are you familiar with the so called X Files Agent Possible?"

The man with the lollipop glared down at her and Kim locked eyes with him, "Vaguely sir, I believe they have to do with unexplained phenomena."

"Camp fire ghost stories, and the ramblings of the insane." The third man exclaimed.

The first man shot the third a look before returning to Kim. Agent Stoppable insists on continuing the cases in these files. He insists on wasting his time and the Bureau's resources investigating these cases. Suggestions have been made that he takes cases better suited for him, but he tends to ignore them."

Kim nodded as she listened with rapt attention. She could see where this was going.

"Agent Possible, because of your excellent qualifications, you will be partnered with Agent Stoppable in investigating these files. You will write reports of these investigations. You will submit honest…frank reports to this group and this group only."

"If I am to understand my assignment sir, I am to debunk the X Files project?"

"If your reports cast doubt on the X Files, so be it. We can use agent Stoppable's talent elsewhere. Yours as well, being such a great talent that it is. Your career in the Bureau will flourish, but for now we trust you'll make the proper logical analysis. You'll want to contact Agent Stoppable shortly. We look forward to seeing your candid reports."

Kim nodded to her superior. "Yes sir."

The meeting was adjourned and most went their separate ways. Kim waited until she was down a corridor with Martin. Then her curiosity took over and she asked.

"So what is Agent…." The name was harder to say then it should have been. "What is Agent Stoppable really like?"

Martin pursed his lips. "He's strange even by F.B.I standards. But I stand by what I said earlier, he's a highly capable agent when properly motivated."

"Why are they...."Kim glanced over her shoulders.

"Why are they so against Agent Stoppable and the X Files? They have their reasons," Martin replied.

Kim paused for a moment to reflect on whether she found the answer satisfactory. Deciding not to press further and ruffle feathers, Kim shifted her line of questioning. "So why did they choose me?"

Martin spoke without turning towards her. "Besides your impressive qualifications?"

Kim remained silent.

"They didn't choose you, I did." He glanced sideways at Kim. "I knew you would be fair in judgment."

The look told her two things; Martin like the others expected nothing but the truth from her however it seemed he had a different opinion of Stoppable than the others.

* * *

A/N That was the prologue folks more to come. This is a work (series)in progress obviously. I'm aiming to balance the X Files atmosphere with KP , it's been a challenge getting that done. But I think I've found a nice mix. For all X Files fans and KP fans if you've got any beefs or suggestions just let me know I'll gladly hear you out. Again thanks to Brother Bludgeon for much of the plot. Read and review.


	2. Reunion

A/N So I gotta thank you guys for coming along when I get "adventurous." Now it's hard work blending the dark X Files universe with the light world of KP. And really I'm still trying to get the right balance. I'm still working things out so hopefully its enjoyable.

* * *

**Shamrock Oregon**

**March 7 2009 3:15 AM**

Under the cover of darkness they had dragged the young man from the ball field behind the school into the deep woods on the edge of town. His face was swollen and his body was covered with bruises. His new shirt, the one Melinda had given him the day before, was torn and stained with his own blood. He had been punched, kicked and humiliated but he was still trying his damnedest to remain conscious. He attempted to pull free from their grasp but his body wouldn't respond. He must have been drugged; he recalled a distinct prick in his back right before he suddenly found himself waking up in this predicament. If he hadn't been so preoccupied he would have definitely seen this ambush coming.

A moan escaped his lips and his assailants hooted and shouted their approval. The young man's eyes adjusted to the pitch darkness of the forest. By the snippets of conversation he had picked up on, he was under the impression that they were both much older than him. Though he wished he could see the faces that were concealed under the black hoods they wore.

"You plucked the fruit from the wrong tree buddy boy." One of them stated.

They were talking directly to him now.

The second one cackled and shone his flashlight in the young man's face. "You shouldn't grab at things you can't reach son. That girl's too good for you."

Were they talking about Melinda? But how could they know? Who were they? The young boy's head jerked back as he was yanked to his feet. They pushed him against a tree and then the young man felt a heavy rope being wrapped around him.

"We're here to teach you your place in the world. Today's lesson is on the separation of classes."

The coarse fibers gripped his skin, but he felt slightly relieved. Being tied to a tree was fine, as long as they left soon, if things lasted any longer if the situation got any worse…

A quick jab to his cheek derailed his train of thoughts.

"Are you paying attention kid? This is an important life lesson you're supposed to be learning here."

"Guys…please…don't" the young man said. "Stop…it."

A backhand struck the young man hard on his face. "I don't think he's paying attention Feely."

The young man was starting to black out. He knew they would be here in moments.

"Dammit Paul, you said my name!"

"Dammit Feely, you just said my name!"

The young man's fingers dug into the rope that bound his upper body to the tree trunk. Whatever they used to knock him out had zapped him of most of his energy. But even with a fraction of his energy he had to try. The young man grunted as he felt the ropes begin to give way. The one named Feely illuminated the ropes with his flashlight. Even with the dim glow the light afforded him he could see a few strands of fiber in the rope tearing.

"AW Hell Paul, did you cheap out on the rope again?" Feely sank his fist into the young man's gut.

The young man ignored the pain and continued to flex against the brunt of the rope. It wasn't about his safety; it had never been about him since he regained consciousness. But still he had to get far, far away from these men.

The primal scream that sprang from his throat caught him by surprise as much as it did to his kidnappers. There was a pause as the two hooded man exchanged glances.

The young man jumped on it.

"Run, run! Damn you, you've got to get out of here!" He shouted as he trashed violently against his restraints

One of the kidnappers grabbed him by the head and sent it back against the tree trunk with a hard shove. "You're in no position to tell us to do anything."

"Please... you don't understand." The young man's voice cracked growing high pitched with fear. However the intense panic he felt was not for himself.

"Just go…they're coming."

His stammering stopped abruptly as his face suddenly blanched. He gasped softly as his head tilted backwards and looked up towards the sky. The wind seemed to pick up immediately and it crackled with electrical static. Leaves and forest dust blew as the night sky grew brighter and brighter.

The young man vigorously shook his head. "Guys no… It's not what you think!"

The two kidnappers brought their hands up to shield themselves from the light.

"It can't be morning already." The first kidnapper stated.

"What's that sound, it's like power line?" The second inquired.

"Nooooo!" The young man shouted as he struggled with his ropes. "Run! Run!"

The power line like electrical hum was drowned out by a crescendo of screams. Feely and Paul's screeches climbed through the forest air itself before coming to an abrupt stop a moment later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**March 20 2009 9:15 AM**

Agent Stoppable's office was in the basement of F.B.I headquarters. The door was unmarked, and if Martin hadn't taken her there personally Kim might not have found it. Martin knocked lightly on the door, but instead of waiting for an answer, he barged into the room.

It was not like any other F.B.I office she had ever seen in her time as an agent. Worn books and the occasional comic book were far from neatly pack into shelves that line three of the four walls from floor to ceiling. Tables were piled high with old newspaper articles along with stacks and stacks of papers, reports and photos. Some of the papers and photos overflowed onto the floor and they looked like they had been there for days. Candy wrappers, soda bottles, and various fast food byproducts accentuated the "lived in" atmosphere of the office.

Kim spied a poster on the wall that said: "I WANT TO BELIEVE."

"Agent Stoppable was supposed to be here."Agent Martin muttered angrily as Kim closed the door behind her.

"Perhaps he's gone to the bathroom?" Kim suggested.

"Perhaps he's gone off to buy a mattress." Martin slowly scanned the room. "Since it's obvious he's made this office his home."

They turned when they heard someone struggling with the door knob.

"How many times do I have to tell you guys this is not then maintenance closet? If you've gotten mop juice on the floors again…."

Ron stopped when he saw noticed the two other agents in the room. "I don't think you guys are janitors."

"Agent Stoppable," Martin growled.

"Oh, sorry if that sounded ignorant. I should have said maintenance technicians."

"Agent Stoppable….I know you are well aware that today is that day you were being assigned a partner."

"Wait a minute, today's Thursday."

"It's Monday, Agent Stoppable."

Ron groaned, "Oy, its going been a long week."

"You're purposefully being difficult Agen---"

Ignoring Martin Ron looked over at Kim, and she froze. The blond hair, the hazel eyes, the sleepy goofy look on his face and she knew, she knew that it wasn't a coincidence. It was really him, right before her very eyes.

"Ron…"

Initially he regarded her casually but his eyes suddenly widened. She was sure he was going to say her name, say something that would chase back time close to twenty years.

Instead he simply said "Oh yeah, Ron….my name. You would think I'd be used to that by now…"

"Are you listening to me?"

Ron turned his attention back to his superior.

Martin cleared his throat. "Stoppable, I would like you to meet your new partner. Special Agent Kimberly Possible."

He nodded. "I've been asking for a new printer and they give me a new partner. Guess they misread the memo again."

Agent Martin glared at the blond agent.

His eyes went from Martin to Kim. "I guess it's pretty sweet. For me anyway, who did you upset to get sent down into the basement Agent Possible?"

Kim drew in a deep breath and conjured up her professional aura. "Actually, I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Really?" He looked into her eyes and then back at Agent Martin. With a frown from his eyebrows or a look of confusion, Kim couldn't decide, he pointed to her with his thumb, "So, she's not here to spy on me?"

Kim knew that she should have been offended but she had not fully recovered from his very presence.

Martin rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two here, to get acquainted."

He nodded politely to both agents before walking out of the door.

"Wait a second," Ron blurted out. "Do you think the old guys upstairs will let me have a mattress in here?"

With a loud grunt as a response Martin quickly departed.

Ron sighed. "He is one of the few people in this building I get along with. And it just depresses me."

He turned his head and quickly discovered that he was being stared at. His new partner was staring at his face, like she was checking off similarities and differences against some mental image.

Ron double-checked his memory. Red hair, green eyes, she had stood beside Agent Martin with an aura of confidence swirling around her like a tornado. She had many qualities that he would remember. He was quite certain of that. But he didn't remember, therefore he had never met her before….Probably. He thought back to some of the things his parents had said long ago.

"Uh, do I know you?"

She looked surprised and a little gratified. "Yes, I really think so."

Ron ran his right hand across his neck. "This is awkward, because I don't remember you."

Kim looked him over for a moment. "It's going to get a little more awkward in a moment if you don't mind."

Ron's eyes panned around the room. She imagined he was looking for someone to confer with.

Eventually he shrugged with a goofy grin. "Go ahead."

_She _stepped up to him and _cupped his face_ with her hands. Then trailed her fingers down _his_ cheek

He chuckled anxiously. "Well I'm pretty sure we didn't date….Even I would be skeptical about that story."

"I am very sure now," she informed him, as she gazed into his eyes. "That you were my best friend when I was a very little girl."

"You grew up in Middleton?"

"Yes."

"So you probably knew me before Wannaweep?"

"Yes."

He shook his head sadly. "That reeks, because I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

She appeared to deflate, "Well it was a long time ago."

"No," he back peddled away from her. "I mean, I,I don't remember anything that happened in the first ten years of my life. Retrograde amnesia…it's the perfect thing if you want a new lease on life."

Kim found herself at a loss for words.

Ron cleared his throat. "I'm going to clue you on my…our latest case."

She nodded.

Ron reached into a drawer, rummaged through it and before pulling out a photo slide. "Y'know as far as coincidences go; this one is pretty crazy."

"You mean us being partnered up after being separated for some many years."

Ron flipped the lights in the room. "After being separated for so long, for you to be assigned to spy on me is a huge coincidence."

Kim's smile stiffened. "Hey if you doubt my qualifications, I'll be glad to list them for you."

He put his hands up to his shoulders, the universal sign of surrender. "No, don't get me wrong. You're a total super agent. You're a rock star around here."

"The thing is, I'm a tad upset" he turned on his slide projector and then he pointed at it. "Look at this fossil, I mean a slide projector? Come on! Did I miss the memo that said we were going back to 1993? Speaking of which, the computers are practically running on dial up. I ask for upgrades, and I get AOL disks and a partner I didn't ask for….no offense."

"None taken" she replied.

He inserted the photo slide, "Um, how's your stomach for um dead things?"

Stung by the perceived dig at her ability Kim met his challenge with a hard stare. Ron smiled before turning on the projector. Up on the wall a body appeared face down in snow. A thin layer of fresh snow could also be found on his clothes. The body was badly burn to the point where the skin wasn't charred there were spots of blistering red.

"This body was found in the woods. Any initial thoughts?"

Kim bit her bottom lip. "I've seen similar burns in people caught in electrical arcs. See what happens is that current sparks are formed between objects of different electric potential that are not in direct contact with each other, most often a highly charged source and a ground. The temperature of an electrical arc can reach 2500-5000o C, which will more than likely result in deep thermal burns when it comes in contact with skin."

"Skills to pay the bills." Ron replied. "Very Sciency."

He flashed another slide. Another corpse, bigger, bulkier, face up, again a thin layer of snow covered his clothes. Both bodies had the same full body burns. The slides continued showcasing the bodies in different angles.

Kim studied the scarecrow like burned body on the screen carefully. "Strange…"

Ron watched Kim curiously. "Hmmm?"

"Well high-voltage injuries like that would cause flame burns. Flame burns would explain the charred skin but in bothvictims their clothes are intact. There are no signs of any burns anywhere."

Ron nodded "Maybe it wasn't an electrical arc ---"

"Well it might have been direct contact…." Kim interrupted as she kept her eyes on the slide. "It's true that current passing directly through the body will heat the tissue causing Electrothermal burns, both to the surface of the skin as well as deeper tissues, depending on their resistance. But that would typically cause damage at the source contact point and the ground contact point."

Squinting she stepped forward. "I can't really see the contact points in these pictures. Secondly these are full body burns. The volts needed to do this are more than one would get from a normal industrial shock."

"Lightning strike?" Ron suggested

Kim nodded. "That would have the necessary volts……However and I'm going to get a little 'sciencier' here."

Ron nodded. "Please, go ahead."

"Industrial shocks rarely last longer than half a second because usually a person is thrown far from the live conductor. Now lightning strikes have an even shorter duration, only lasting up to a few milliseconds. That's not nearly enough time to ah, 'cook'... like that."

Ron cracked his knuckles. "Fun fact….well not really fun, disturbing, yet interesting fact…First of all, I'm glad you pointed out the thing about the clothes, cuuuuzzzz according to the M.E for both victims their tooth fillings didn't vaporize, usually that happens in accidents with much less amperage."

"Maybe the clothes were placed on the body afterward…."

He grinned. "The last time the last two victims were seen alive they were wearing the same clothes. So that would mean they took off their clothes, got zapped and then somebody put it back on them. ANNND I'm assuming they didn't have detachable fillings"

Kim cleared her throat. "Who found the bodies?"

"Joggers out for a friendly stroll. The autipsy…"

"Autopsy," she corrected.

"Yeah, I've always had problems with that word. You'll have to get used to that." He glanced at her through the sides of his eyes. "The AUTOPSY, as messy as that would be---"

"Would lend itself to a chance of inaccuracy because of the state of the bodies," Kim interjected.

"Right….the autopsy placed time of death late the night before. The victim's were apparently bikers, motor not pedal. Their bikes were discovered about ten miles deeper in the woods."

Kim mulled this factoid over. "This sounds like we're headed into mad scientist territory. We should search for any similar M.O.'s. Check the ray gun database."

"I like the way you think," Ron complemented with a smile, "it's quick and efficient. Mad scientists though, they're usually flamboyant, larger than life characters that almost always leave calling cards. They steal things, they blow stuff up. They design elaborate traps and world domination doomsday devices. They don't usually drop bodies five miles away from the smallest town in Oregon"

"Maybe there's one on the run, hiding out, trying not to be found." She frowned while she staring at the victim. "This is…."

"Freaky?" Ron interrupted.

"I was going to say peculiar," Kim commented. "Do you have any theories?"

"Moi? I have TONS of theories. My favorite theory is on why the Bureau won't listen to me or give me any cool stuff. Why the bureau labels these unexplained phenomena. Why the Bureau thinks they should stuffed away in a leaky basement to be forgotten?"

"I was talking about theories on this case," Kim stated after the tirade.

"Oh."

She looked back down at the picture. "This is a puzzle at the moment but that doesn't mean the answers aren't there. You just have to know where to look."

"Sweet… that is how an agent is supposed to play the game. I'm sure Martin and everyone above him believes in the same thing. That is why they put the "I" in "F.B.I." See you tomorrow morning, 'A, P', bright and early. We leave for the Oregon at dawn."

"A, P?"

Ron leaned back in his chair. "A.P, Agent Possible…..is that too formal?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not _too_ formal."

"Cool."

Kim smiled and started to walk away. But then she turned back. She looked at him sadly. "You know all these years, I thought you were dead."

Ron glanced at her briefly before averting his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That you lost your friend."

"But you're still…" Her hand on the door of the office Kim let out a deep sigh. "Right, it's OK though, I got over it."

"Really? During your first year in the Bureau most of the assignments you volunteered for involved missing children."

"So?" Kim replied.

Ron fiddled with his fingers. "So…nothing."

"Well at least I know you have read my file."

A sheepish smile crawled over Ron's face. "Didn't want to… but I had too. If it makes you feel better, you're a way better agent than I am."

Kim smiled, "See you tomorrow, Agent Stoppable."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning Kim found herself on a plane heading for Oregon. She sat in the center aisle seat. Across from her Ron lay sprawled over four seats fast asleep. It seemed to her that the hours between their reintroduction and their plane ride had gone by in the blink of an eye. Though she mused, it was a reintroduction for her for Ron it was a different matter. Before yesterday he probably wasn't even aware she existed. If they had met somewhere outside the Bureau he would have regarded her as a passing face in the crowd. The thought of this echoed in her mind on her way home the night before, but the weight of it didn't hit her until she laid down to sleep. She recalled the sleepless nights of a little girl wondering if her friend would return. Knowing that the friend was alive and had not given her second thought,ince "then" was a bitter pill to swallow. Though she admitted to herself it was a tad on the egotistical side. It wasn't his fault anyway she realized, and this realization came with another variety of sadness. She knew that even mild amnesia took a toll on daily activities and quality of life. Having years of your life missing must have been a tremendous weight for anyone to carry.

She decided then it was the best for them both not to drag up the past. The important matters were in the present and the bottom line was that Ron was alive. That thought alone did help her get to sleep that night. As she drifted off she wondered if she should tell her parents, how would they react, and how would their reaction affect her………

"You're staring at me," Ron muttered with his eyes still closed.

Kim quickly pulled her gaze from him to the airplane window, "No I wasn't."

"You were, I could sense your eyes….I was trained to do so."

"Trained?"

"Actually replace trained with harassed, I was harassed by a father figure to do so."

The obvious follow up here for Kim was to ask about this father figure. But she had resigned herself to dialing down the curiosity.

"Listen, since you're awake----"

With visible reluctance Ron opened his eyes then blinked to get them to focus. "Who said I was awake?"

"I checked the closest thing we have to such a weapon now was used by Dr. Livewire. He had a weapon of mass destruction that could harness the power of lightning and fire it at his targets."

A look of disappointment came over the blond agent's face. "Interesting."

"However…" Kim started.

"However?"

"It turns out that it weighed two hundred pounds and it was destroyed when Dr Livewire's lair self destructed."

"Alright," Ron said causally.

Kim leaned back and glanced up at the ceiling. She began to speak as if she were reciting from memory. "Also there's Zap Marquise." "Zap?" "He's a villain, thanks to his power suit he can absorb electricity and then discharge it. However he's never been known to display this kind of raw power. Though like many other villains we can reasonably assume he continuously tweaks his suit. The problem is though to do the amount of damage we saw on those bodies he would have had to absorb multiple lightning strikes at once or even absorb a three blocks worth of electricity from a city like New York." She looked back at Ron. "But it's highly improbable with consideration to the amount of energy available in the area and the weather."

There was a moment of silence then Ron looked Kim in the eye and then he started to chuckle.

"So you kind of did all that work for no reason?"

"That's not true. Because now we know what this is not. We know that we're probably not dealing with a run of the mill villain.."

Ron nodded. "We're on the same page here. I also agree that this was not done by a run of a mill villain."

"So what are you thinking?"

Ron simply shrugged. "I don't know."

"You must be thinking something," she insisted.

"Let me ask you something," Ron said with a smile and a hushed tone. "Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

Kim used some time to come up with a good answer. "I've never really thought about it that much."

"Fair enough, but hey what's your professional answer" Ron pressed. "As a doctor, as a scientist, as a special agent."

"Logically, I would have to say no," she relented. "Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft's capabilities th..."

She stopped when she caught sight of his drooping head. Apparently he had once again dozed off.

"Ron!"

He bolted upright in his seat at the sound of shout. "What….what's happening?"

"Did you just fall asleep while I was talking to you?"

He shook his head. "This is a misunderstanding you're um….let me think…you're reiteration of textbook… wisdom was so soothing that I uh….there's really no way out of this is there?"

Kim crossed her arms over his chest. "No way, that doesn't involve me being PO'd."

"I'm sorry," Ron said sincerely. "But I've heard that explanation so many times….Wait a second did you just yell at me using my first name?"

Before Kim could answer the pilot's voice came through the overhead loudspeaker. "I would like to ask all passengers to fasten their seatbelts, as we're about to make our descent----"

The pilot didn't get much farther than Kim did when he got cut off. His voice faded as a jolt ran through the pain. It felt like a Mack Truck had slammed into the plane. Baggage bins flew open as the cabin lights blinked on and off. The sounds of the engines stopped abruptly and they were replaced by the screams of passengers. Kim clutched tightly to her seat as the plane began to dip.

Suddenly the lights came on again and the engines began to roar. The plane finally is brought under control and Kim sighs in relief. Ron turned to her with a smile on his face.

"Weren't you scared?"

"Oh I was absolutely terrified." The male agent replied. "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

Her right eyebrow arched up into her forehead. "But?"

"There was an overriding emotion. I guess you could call it excitement…anticipation."

'Why?"

"For one thing this must be the place." He stated with a happy smile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron smiled brightly when he tossed Kim their rental keys.

"Me driving wouldn't be much better than that plane ride we just had. It would probably have more turbulence.'

Kim didn't argue. She got behind the wheel and started the car. Swiftly it moved into the highway leaving the airport access road behind. She drove in silence as Ron sat besides her tapping away at a portable game system. Periodically he would peer up from the game and sneak a peek at her.

"So I guess you're the silent but efficient type of spy?" Ron said with his eyes on the game screen.

"You're still stuck on that huh? Well I'm going to tell you again, you're wrong."

"So what you're saying is that you're the silent but incompetent type of spy?"

"I'm not a spy," Kim sighed. "I'm your partner OK? We're a team."

"Right….Hey! Aren't you going to ask about what happened to me? I mean if you were my friend, my parents should have contacted your family right? Aren't you itching to know where I've been all these years?"

Kim kept her eyes on the road. "No, I don't feel I have the right to pry."

Ron pulled away from his game system. "So you're going to respect my privacy?"

"Yes."

Ron's lowered his eyebrows, "Hmmm, you're not going to pry. But then again if I tell you what happened, you'll listen right?"

She turned away from the road and locked eyes with him. Captured in the piercing emerald, Ron found that he couldn't tell if she was going to cry or slug him.

"I do have a question," she said.

"Yeah?"

"I was reading those files. Why didn't you mention this case has already been investigated?"

Ron ran through his mussed hair. "I wouldn't say it was investigated. Agent Keenan, good dude a little on the short side, he specializes in suburban villainy. He came down, enjoyed the scenery, enjoyed some blackberries, marionberries, & Dungeness crab which I can't blame him for, because to be completely honest, they are really, really delicious. Anyway he jotted some notes took one look at the bodies and said this one looks like an X File."

"Let me guess, he recommended you personally?"

"I've got a rep…" Ron murmured. "Plus, I am the only one who cares about these cases."

Kim thought of the files she had studied on the plane. "You know our two victims had priors...typical bad guys constantly going in and out of the system. Not unreasonable to think they could have gotten involved with a bad element."

"Did you see the pics….Bad element is understatement."

"I'm sure we'll find out who is responsible for all this."

Ron stopped playing and brightened. "I dig your optimism A.P. I think it helps make you a decent agent."

Kim's right eyebrow arched high up into her forehead. "A decent agent?"

"Poor choice of words" Ron said quickly. "You are.."

"Getting annoyed?" Kim muttered.

But Ron wasn't listening. He was smacking the back of his game system on its side.

"These batteries are fresh." Ron stared down at the blank screen speculatively. Then he reached for the car stereo and turned it on. Instead of music, a loud ear splitting hum came out of the radio instead.

"Do you hear that?" Ron shouted.

"Are you serious?" She shouted back at him. "How can I not, it's making my ears bleed."

Ron stuck his head out the window and looked up to the sky. "Stop the car!"

Kim slammed on the brakes and the car came to a screeching halt. "What's going on?"

"This is a really terrifying moment!" Ron shouted as he pulled the keys from the ignition.

Kim noted the ecstatic look on his face. "Overriding emotion?"

"O-o-o-h yes!" He and Kim stepped out of the car.

Ron made a beeline for the trunk; he snatched a can of pink spray paint from it, and then walked down the highway about twenty yards. Kim watched in wonder as he marked a giant "X" on the asphalt.

"What was that about?" She asked when he returned to the car.

"Probably nothing in the grand scheme of things." Ron replied with a shrug, then he looked at her and said, "But hey you never know right?"

Kin couldn't fight that. She didn't know what just went on; she definitely didn't know what was going in her partner's head, and she had no idea what would happen next.

"Hey check it out."

Kim followed his gaze to the vine covered roadside that said in big letters: "WELCOME TO SHAMROCK THE FRIENDLY TOWN."

"That's just creepy," Ron remarked.

Kim nodded to herself, "definitely."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"See when you watch future movies…or more specifically movies based in a future setting, do you notice how the food never looks any good? It's always some kind of slop, a pill, or paste, something white, sterile, and yecch. You would think by the time we got into the future we would've figured out how to make it look appealing?"

Kim glanced at her partner through the windshield. She leaned her head out the driver's side window. "I'm not sure how to respond to that. Did you just leap forward into the middle of a conversation without me?"

"A little randomness never hurt anyone."

Ron was in the process of kneeling beside a mound of piled up snow. They were currently at the far end of a jogging path just two miles away from the center of the town's official park. Ron had insisted they visit the body dump site before they actually saw the bodies up close. As he stalked up and down the jogging trail, Kim stayed in the car and studied the case files. Eventually he approached the driver's side window.

"Behavioral science 101 body placement is pretty important. It's tells things."

"Like what?" Kim said.

"Here's the thing, there's a river nearby that runs right through the park the bodies could have been tossed in there severely delaying their discovery. The victim's motorcycles, which were discovered after the bodies, were found twelve miles deeper into the woods. The bodies could have been left out there where they might never be found. But what actually happened is the bodies are placed near a trail on a pile of snow where they would be found quickly. Someone wanted them to be found. Whoever it was does not feel good about what went down."

Kim regarded him carefully. "So you _do_ believe a _person_ did this right?"

Ron sighed. "I think a person was involved."

Kim pushed that issue aside. "You're certain the body was moved?"

Ron's head tilted upwards as if he were looking at something imprinted on the sky. "Remember the first slide of the bodies? See there's snow on the ground around them right? At least six inches on the forest floor wasn't more than an inch of undisturbed snow layered on the clothes. It snowed in the morning, just a few hours before the bodies were found. The ME placed the times of death between 2-4 AM, autopsy placed time of death late the night before, weather reported of the area said it starting snowing at 5 AM."

Ron paused. "These guys were big dudes; one was a guy close to three bills."

Kim nodded. "Common sense is you carry that kind of load in a car. And no one's bumping a Toyota Camry into the woods. You'd need a pickup truck."

"The local cops took pictures of most of the area. There are no truck prints to be found."

"Trunk prints?"

"Tracks," the blond agent said quickly. "Tire tracks…..The snow was light, enough to cover single tracks of foot prints but not tire tracks. So no vehicle was involved. Even stranger there were no drag marks or a hint of a wheel barrow. A P an Olympic athlete is not dragging these stiffs deep into the woods in his arms. Even stranger there were no drag marks or a hint of a wheel barrow."

"Multiple suspects?" Kim inquired.

"You'd think two, three, four, five guys would leave signs they've been strolling around, dumping bodies in the snow. But you might be right. Still the point remains; the bodies were carried through the dark woods and dumped here."

"Which means he or they are local." Kim declared. "Or at least he, they've been here long enough to become intimately familiar with the area."

Ron stared at her expectantly, "Oh really?"

"Like you said the bodies were carried through the dark woods. There is no way he they would have done that unless the territory was known well, and he/they knew what to expect around here. Plus we can reasonably assume this wasn't caused by an accident. They were in the woods nowhere near any live conductors and if it snowed chances are there wasn't thunder and lightning involved."

"Nice," Ron walked around their rental and hopped back into the passenger side.

"It's a small town; secrets don't go far in small towns. If we dig through there for a few days we might be able to find a lead."

"Couldn't agree more A.P. You're good."

"Better than you thought I'd be?" She asked.

"Better than I hoped." He conceded. "It's going to be tough having such a competent spy around."

"For the last time, I'm not a spy." Kim snapped back.

Then she drew in a deep breath. "Hey you joined the profiling team at Quantico before getting into the X Files right?"

The Investigative Support Unit of the Bureau usually snagged "right brained" creative types for their profiling team. Through specialized training the full fledged members of the team were first rate, creative investigators.

"Yep "Ron replied quickly.

Kim did not fail to get the hint. "I guess Special Agent Martin was right about you."

Curiosity flashed across Ron's face. "What did he say?"

"He said you could be very guarded, and at times you are very frustrating to be around. " Kim said as she started up the car.

"One man's opinion," Ron pointed out.

"He also said you were very odd."

Ron bit his bottom lip.

"But he said he doesn't hold that against you," Kim added. "And neither should I."

"The matchmaker." Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

"The guarded part aside, you haven't changed."

There was a rapid succession of blinks before Ron responded. "What does the mean?"

Kim shook her head. "Don't mind me, just a bit of nostalgia, she said simply.

He studied her silently as the car lurched forward.

"By the way," she said interrupting his thoughts. "The reason why a movie about the future showcases bad food is because the Earth in the future is usually portrayed with having limited resources, due to war, alien invasion, over population, or some natural disaster. You can't have a juicy looking steak when you're scavenging for food or mass producing pills to replace them."

Ron looked at Kim and then he turned to his own window. Despite his efforts a thin smile formed on his face, which was beginning to form a grin, "But still…."

* * *

A/N Well hope you enjoyed the reunion, read, review and whatnot. Oh and if my "science" really blows let me know so I can fix it up. Next time I post, chances are it'll be part of a double release. So look forward to that.


	3. Work in progress

A/N Here's hoping I am doing Kim Possible and The X Files Justice. I know I've enjoyed writing this chapter.

* * *

The examination of the crime scene had been reasonably productive but Kim and Ron still ended up with more questions than answers. Even though they hadn't proceeded too far past square one, the agents were fairly optimistic when they arrived at the town civic center. However Kim couldn't help think that she and her partner might have been optimistic for vastly different reasons. When Ron smiled, it was the smile of someone who knew something you didn't. It was the kind of smile that usually attracted trouble. Kim contemplated the thoughts behind the smile as they exited their rental car.

"Mr. Gartner?" Ron called out to the lone man standing in front of the coroner's office.

"Yes sir. That's me," the county medical examiner said.

"Special Agent Stoppable, F.B.I," Ron gestured to Kim. "My partner Special Agent Possible."

"Nice to meet you all," Gartner said.

Ron shaped the fingers of his right hand into the shape of a phone and brought them to his ear. "We talked on the phone."

"Yeah we kept them on ice for ya. Now the question is, will that be to stay or to go?"

Ron and Kim exchanged glances as the coroner chuckled to himself.

Gartner continued to chuckle until he broke into a coughing fit. "A little gallows humor," he muttered when he had calmed down,

"Riiiiiggggghhhhtttt, I don't get it" Ron said quickly. "Anyway we'll just ignore the creepiness and move on to business."

"You know we never really got a chance to do a full autopsy. Sheriff called you all before we could dig deep. The agent that came before you didn't let us do much either. I'm sure if you let us do our job; we can save you some trouble. We can even have a full report ready for you by morning. I know this an unusual case and we are a small town operation but we don't make mistakes."

"Dude, we would be honored to have your assistance," Agent Stoppable responded with a friendly tone. "However, my partner here would have to take the lead in this procedure."

Kim nodded. "The thing is firsthand experience when possible can benefit the investigation. For example the initial pictures you and the sheriff provided were fine---"

Ron interrupted. "Though I would highly recommend the good town of Shamrock invest in a new digital camera for the crime scene photos."

Kim gave him a sharp look.

"But I'm a little high maintenance so..." Ron paused as he noticed the M.E staring blankly at him.

"Here's the thing dude, a picture sez a thousand words. But all those words could be a random jumbled mess, now having evidence in your face is like having an audio book. You pay enough attention and you'll hear a story."

Kim smiled brightly. "Uh exactly, we'd uh like to hear the story firsthand Mr. Gartner. And though a detailed report would be good under most circumstances. This is an opportunity I'd like to take an advantage of."

Gartner shrugged. "OK, my assistants and I will have the lab ready in a moment."

Ron watched the M.E walk into the building before turning to Kim. "So ready to work your medically trained mojo?"

"You know, it would save time if you go to the meeting with the sheriff while I work in the lab."

Ron's eyebrow furrowed. "You don't mind me going alone?"

"Are you going to take part in the examination?" she asked with a start of a grin on her face.

His face lost some color right before her eyes. "No, no I don't dabble with the dead. I was just going to... observe. And maybe hand you a scalpel every now and then."

"Are you concerned about me working on the victims? I have examined cadavers in class and in the field before."

"It's not that." The furrowing of Ron's eyebrows continued. "Have you worked bodies like these? Like the man said, they are unusual you know."

"They're deceased. I can handle that. And don't think I'm going to cut any corners, I want to know the truth just as much as you do."

Ron whistled softly to himself. "You think so huh?"

The mischievous smile that Kim had noted once or twice before had returned to Ron's face.

"I don't just think so, I know so."

Ron ran his hands together. "OK let me get this straight; you don't mind me going alone?" He paused for a the briefest of moments, and then continued, "You have been briefed about me right?"

"I am expecting to be brought up to speed with a detailed report, like the one I will be presenting to you when I'm done."

"A detailed report huh?" Ron sighed deeply. "You're a stickler for walking the line aren't you?"

"It is part of our job."

"Part of your job would be NOT letting me go out alone." Ron again was looking for that confession from Kim; that another part of her job was to spy on him. Once again his quest would fail.

"I don't see a breach of protocol here."

Ron ran his hand though his mussed air before clucking loudly. "Sounds like a very fair division of labor to me. You probe the victims, I'll probe the sheriff."

At that moment, Ron just froze with no expression on his face. Kim soon became worried and asked, "Ron? Ron? Ron! Are you OK?

"What?" as he shook his head. "Sorry, just a bad image I was trying to get out of my head."

Kim watched Ron turn on his heels and start down the block. She called out after him. "You want the car?"

"Nah I think I'll walk," her partner responded. "See the town a little."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Though she didn't really play the part, Kim was for all intents and purposes a medical doctor. As such she had some experience with the dead. This became true especially after the Bureau approached her, and she turned her attention towards the world of forensic pathology. So it was safe to say she had a number of opportunities to perform an autopsy. Though it was far from her favorite aspect of the job, she still saw it as a challenge, and she preferred to do it alone if possible.

And she was alone as she stood over the burned husk that was formerly the body of a living breathing person. She inspected the surgical tools on the tray next to the autopsy table. Before they had even ventured into Shamrock, Kim had gone over all the medical texts she could find on electrical based injuries. She had a fair idea of what she should and should not find.

When she felt ready; she brought her sleek digital mini pen recorder to her lips and went to work.

"Subject; Paul Oz. Male Caucasian, thirty eight years old, subject is six feet tall weighing 215 pounds."

Paul's face was blackened and peeling. Kim touched the body and a flake of charred flesh fell off. Even with her all her professionalism she couldn't help but think, _"ewwww."_

"Apparent cause of death is respiratory arrest caused by an electrical current passing through the brain and heart. There are many indicators of damage normally attributed to thermal burns along the exterior of the body. Thermal burns may cover large sections of the body but are usually only partial thickness. In contrast to this the victim's entire body seems to have been affected.…"

Kim stared down at Paul's teeth, though stained with plaque they poked through his blackened lips. "Strangely enough though there are layers of complete external charring, subject's teeth appear relatively intact. In fact neither subjects hair nor any of their fingernails are even slightly singed."

Kim moved on to the head and began probing in detail for any clues left behind. "Because the current is usually concentrated at the source contact point, the greater degree of damage is found at that point. Based on that I can reasonably include the source contact point was the very top of the victim's forehead. We can theorize he was struck from above. At least a few feet above his head."

Finishing her preliminary examination Kim took a large scalpel and cut into Paul Oz's body cavity. After digging through the victim and taking copious notes Kim moved on to the second victim Feely Henson. Though the man weighed a little over three hundred pound, she knew what to expect and it didn't take as long to validate her notes.

"To summarize," She said through corner of her mouth while her fingers worked the volume of her pen recorder. "Both industrial shocks and lightning strikes result in deep burns at point of contact. There is evidence of this in both victims. Industrial shock victims sometimes exhibit deep tissue destruction along the entire current path, while lightning victims' burns seem to center at the entry and exit points. Both victims exhibit full body deep tissue destruction; however there is a greater degree of damage found at the same point on the tip of their foreheads, which appears to be the entry point. There is no exit point and the current seemed to have dissipated before penetrating deeply into the bone structure but not before causing significant internal damage to the brain and heart."

She frowned. "One possibility is that this is the work of advanced technology. I can safely conclude it is not the work of any conventional weapon used in villainy or otherwise. From the initial reports it has become clear that the victims' clothes received no damage beyond the interior cloth partially fusing with the victims' charred skin. We can imagine the clothes had made contact as the thermal burns occurred. This all leads to the thought that this weapon only damages living tissue. However this is strictly conjecture."

Kim stared down at the bodies, deeply troubled. Conjecture or not something dangerous was out there and she had to find out what it was. No _they_ had to find out what was going; Kim backed away from the bodies. She was part of a team now, and they had their work cut out for them.

She got the faint feeling that she was may have made a mistake when her call second called to her partner's cell. The feeling grew when she arrived at the local sheriff's office and was notified that the blond agent had come and gone.

"I gave him the information we had on the victims. That didn't take long and he seemed real disappointed about that." The Sheriff said with a shrug. "Then he asked how long I've been working here. I told him I just transferred here a few years ago from Portland. That's when he asked some touristy questions."

"Touristy questions?"

"About the town, it's history, the town hot-spots or lack thereof. He seemed more excited about that than the other information."

Kim accepted this information graciously before leaving the sheriff's office. The lawman didn't know why Ron needed the information and Kim didn't have much of a clue either. She was grappling to get a hold on her partner's motives when her cell rang out.

"Isn't it weird" the voice on the other line said when she answered.

"What?"

"Isn't it weird that you were just thinking about me, and then I suddenly call? That's the sign of a special connection, a strong partnership."

Kim sighed heavily, "Why didn't you pick up the phone when I called."

"Well, I have trust issues since you're kind of a---"

"If you say spy one more time…" Kim allowed her words to trail off.

"A newbie, when it comes to working with me," Ron said quickly. "The thing is, I've thought about it and I'm probably going to need your help."

"Probably?" Kim remarked.

"Correction. I'm going to need your help. And I'm going to need you to pick me up."

"Where are you now?"

"Believe it or not, I'm at the South Valley Senior Center. They're having one of their free weekly dances this afternoon. The old folks like to call it, "'"The Club.'" Why don't you stop by."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As expected, "The Club" was named ironically. No strobe lights, bass-pounding rhythms or skin tight leather pants here. What Kim discovered was a senior center offering classes in aerobics, fishing and pottery, and dancing.

She also saw, when she entered the center's large dance hall, her partner twirling hand in hand with an elderly woman. The senior he led across the dance floor had to have been close to three times his age. After getting over her initial shock of seeing Ron with a bewigged geriatric she realized that in the room, along with a live band there was at least a half dozen or so other elderly pairs moving across the dance floor. A few more people were scattered in each corner of the room, chatting it up while moving stiffly to the music. It was wall to wall elderly, boogieing to some old rock music. Kim waited impatiently for the current song to end before marching across the dance floor.

"Meryl, I know you're too old to commit...," Ron said as he separated himself from the old woman. "But you've got to admit we've got an ageless chemistry going on here."

"Oh pshaw," the old woman cooed.

Clearing her throat loudly, Kim brought the dance partners' attention to herself. "Hello."

Ron wasn't phased by her sudden appearance beside him. He smiled broadly at her and then at the old woman. "A.P I'd like you to meet Mrs. Collins, AKA Meryl 'Lightfoot'." We met as I strolled around town, we chatted a bit and then she invited me here. Meryl, this is special agent Kim 'highest number of solved cases two years running' Possible"

"That's an unusual name dear."

Kim flashed a smile to the old woman. "Well I was named by an unusual man."

Then she glared at her partner. "Why are we here?"

"What do we know about Paul Oz and Feely Henson so far?" Ron inquired.

"Small-time amateurs, petty thieves, nuisance offenders. The biggest thing on their rap sheet is a bungled attempted robbery of a poker game that ended up like a three stooges sketch. Once they got out; Paul became licensed as a bounty hunter, Feely did odd jobs when not trying to push his brand of moonshine or gambling illegally."

"That sounds like those boys."Meryl remarked.

"Is there anything else A.P?"

Kim shook her head. "What am I telling you that you don't already know? Didn't the sheriff already clue you in?"

"Come on, we need to build on our communication skills. We need to learn how to dialogue."

With her right eyebrow arched, Kim crossed her arms over her chest.

Ron gestured towards the old woman, "Come on play along, for Meryl's sake at least."

"They were born and raised in Shamrock," Kim stated. "Excluding some time in juvenile hall, and a few brief stints in the system, they've lived here all their lives."

"What a coincidence, Meryl's been here all her life!"

Meryl nodded. "I used to baby sit Paul and Feely when they were younger, God bless their souls. I babysat many of the town's children. Feely was the loudest of the two boys, he was always shouting about something or another. Paul was quiet, but smart." The old woman then leaned over to Kim and with a hushed tone she said. "However, and I hate to speak ill of the dead, they were two thieves in a pod. Paul was what you would call ... a kleepto?"

"Kleptomaniac," Kim corrected.

"That's it." Meryl glanced at Ron. "You were right, she is smart."

Kim briefly exchanged glances with Ron before Meryl continued. "He was a kleptomaniac, but unfortunately for him he was also an extreme pack rat. When he was young, Paul's mother, she's passed on now, she used to confide in me, actually everyone confided in me those days, some still do, not much changes around here except for my hearing."

She laughed softly before continuing.

"Anyway, she used to tell me that every time she would clean that boy's room she find something peculiar. For a fact, one time she found Mrs. Gabzura's famous lawn gnome that had gone missing two years before, in the boy's closet."

"She's telling the truth" Ron nodded before pointing to the far end of the room. "Mrs. Gabzura's right over there and she can corroborate the story about her stolen gnome."

Ron pointed to another man who right in the middle of performing the Charleston. "Now that dude over there, who is currently busting a move. He has a story about Paul's father clearing out his garage, and finding his wife's missing earrings. He also let it drop that Feely would do anything for money and he should know because he hired Feely once to kidnap his neighborhood dog." Responding to his partner's look he answered, "Apparently the dog had it coming."

He turned towards an old woman in a corner of the room, he waved and she waved back. "Mrs. Blaylock sez her before he died, Feeley owed her grandson a couple of G's."

Kim took a moment to mull over what she had just heard. "And all this is what?"

"Background information A.P it's Victimology 101."

Meryl grinned broadly. "This is a fascinating process. It's just like the police shows on TV."

"OK, I can understand that," Kim conceded. "So did you get the info you needed?"

Ron shrugged. "You could say that."

"Wait, you didn't tell her about the incident." Meryl anxiously interjected. Well as anxiously as she could for her age. "You asked about that too, so it must be relevant."

"Incident?" Kim inquired.

"I, uh, Mrs. Collins, I was going to get to that eventually…"

"You've never heard of it? Why it's the only interesting thing that's happened in this town since the B & C sugar refinery opened up seventy years ago."

Meryl placed her hand against Kim's arm to make sure she had the agent's rapt attention. "Some of us call it the Lake Shore incident, the strangest day in the town's history. You won't find less than a dozen people that don't have some kind of odd tale about that day. For one thing there was an entire section of town where the cars stopped on the road, clocks stopped ticking, and radio's fizzled. John McNeil, he's passed on now, he swore for years that very morning he noticed an unusual cloud starting to form in what was otherwise a clear blue late morning sky. "

His fist to his mouth Ron coughed loudly. "That's a fascinating story Mrs. Collins. Just as fascinating as the first time you told it. Now my partner and I have to do some work involving the law, because we're in law enforcement."

Ignoring him completely Meryl gestured wildly to an elderly man who happened to be shuffling by. "Frank, tell them about your Lakeshore incident."

The old man glanced over at Ron. "I already told him."

"Well tell it again. This time it's for his lovely partner here."

Frank who Kim assumed was around his mid sixties looked her over. "Well now, anything for such a pretty young lady. It was about twelve years ago--"

"Frank, save your energy," Ron muttered.

"I was out fishing that very afternoon all by my lonesome when I see a bright light like a kerosene lamp just floating there over the trees. I thought nothing of it at the time; I even fell asleep in my boat. That's how much I wasn't thinking about it. I woke up, it was dark, I tried to drive home and my truck wouldn't start. Mind you I was an hour out of town. So I decided then I might as well stop by Joe Bullard's place, which of course is closer to my fishing hole than Shamrock. I was hoping to get a ride to town, but when I arrived there I find Joe grabbing at his hair. Turns out, his lights are out, his truck isn't working, and his son is missing."

Silence fell upon the group and it appeared to Kim that everyone was awaiting her reaction. She shifted on her feet before asking. "What happened next?"

"Now we were just about to rush off into the woods in search of him; I mean we had just stepped onto his porch, when the boy walks out of the darkness with a smile on his face. He takes a few steps then faints, drops right on the ground like a sack of cement. We picked him up, went right for the truck and luckily this time it worked. We rushed him into town and had Doc Hall treat him. It turned out the boy was just a little dehydrated."

Kim cast a sharp look upon Ron and replied, "I agree that is a strange occurrence. However we really have to get back to work."

"Yes, we do" Ron said. "It is our job to work."

The two agents offered their fond farewells to their new-found elderly friends before separating themselves from the group. Though the walk from the middle of the room to the exit lasted for a few seconds, it was enveloped in a tense and conflicted atmosphere.

"Nice folk," Ron said. "Lovely folk actually, reminds me of my own grandparents, especially the tanned couple doing the foxtrot."

He opened the door of the room and held it open for Kim. "So, A.P we've got a lot of ground to cover what next?"

"You are going to explain yourself right?" She commented quickly while breezing past him.

"Of course" Ron answered cordially. "I will, when things need to be explained."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The car jumped when they hit a bump on the road. "I shouldn't be driving I really have trouble hitting corners. You should really do most of the driving."

"I know why you took this case!" Kim blurted out

"I'm doing what now?"

"For the weirdness I just experienced with your new elderly friends." Kim paused briefly as Ron he guided their rental down main street.

"Agent Martin _hinted _about your obsession with unexplained phenomenon."

"Wow, he actually said obsessed?"

"I admit your behavioral analysis may prove to aid the investigation. However that entire situation we just had back there had no relevance to our case whatsoever."

With his head tilted to one side, Ron glanced at Kim with mild curiosity. "Situation?"

"Tall tales and local legends with grandma and grandpa."

"Oh," Ron said. "They seemed like credible witnesses to me."

"They're also seemed kind of y'know old."

"So?" Ron replied quickly.

"So?" Kim repeated irritably. "From the perspective of neuroscience, eyewitness testimony has been found to be much more unreliable than we understand it to be. In addition to that fact, we are dealing with elderly people reminiscing about outrageous anecdotes that occurred close to two decades ago. If you didn't notice one testimony described a cloud like substance in the air, another testimony had a lamplight object in the air."

Ron bit his bottom lip. "You do good logics A.P. I can't deny that. I am willing to concede that some of the background information I gathered may or may not be relevant to this case."

"It's very, likely not relevant."

"That has yet to be determined."

She sighed. "We need to concentrate on who could have killed these men."

"Or _what_ could have killed them," Ron blurted out.

For the next ten minutes they drove in complete silence. "You really believe in things from out of space?" Kim inquired when they had reached a stop sign.

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked at Kim. "I haven't shut the door to better explanations."

"I think you're letting your imagination gets the best of you. It happened to you a lot when you were younger."

Ron turned to her again and she expected him to say something, he even opened his mouth but nothing came out. He fidgeted in his seat as if he had, he appeared to her this was the first time he had become uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I uh, I'll take your word for it" he said tentatively.

"You don't believe me do you?"

"Does it matter if I do or not?"

The redhead then fixed his gaze on her partner. "It matters to me," Kim spoke with a scratch in her voice.

Ron groaned. "I just....don't take this the wrong way. But wouldn't you find it weird being compared to someone you don't know. The guy you're talking about is a stranger to me."

Kim geared up to say something but there came an obvious moment of hesitation followed by a simple, "Fair enough, partner."

"Obviously you were about to say something more than that" Ron stated.

"No, there's nothing more to be said" she responded.

"Really, its---"

"No, it's fine," Kim insisted, her attention then returned to the road.

"See, now everything's all awkward" Ron chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shoulder to shoulder the two agents marched conspicuously through the lobby of the Del Rio motel. Ignoring the passing glances from those exiting the motel the partners conversed amongst themselves as they hit the motel staircase.

"I gotta tell you A.P, I admire your F.B.I swagger. And I say that with all degrees of sincerity"

"Are you still trying to ease tension between us?"

"The simple answer to that is yes. The complicated answer is that you're straight shooter, iron bar for a spine, 'I sleep standing up' walk is deserving of admiration. I've been in the bureau longer than you and I still can't get it right."

Kim glanced over her shoulders at the motel entrance before returning her attention to him. Ron imagined she had immediately replayed their walk over in her mind.

"Your walk was fine," she said confirming his theory.

Shaking his head Ron sighed sadly. "Nah, it was decent at best, but you've got it down pat. Mine lacks…uptightness no offense."

"None taken. But may I suggest "seriousness" in the place of "uptightness" just for future reference."

As they neared the door to a room on the far end of the motel's top floor, Kim began summing up their current situation.

"So according to the motel owner, Paul Oz and Feely Henson lived in this same motel room for the last two years after the bank foreclosed on Henson's family home, and six months later Paul's trailer burned down. The owner was a casual friend of theirs; he turned a blind eye to their occasional shenanigans as long as they paid well. Once in awhile there would be a fight over smells or how the cluttered the room was. After owing months of back rent on the room Mr. Oz suddenly paid his bill in full the very afternoon they were last seen alive."

Kim stopped herself when they were right before the motel room door. "But you already know this since you were the one who picked up the sheriff's reports."

Ron nodded, "that is true."

"So why did you let me go on that long oration."

"You like to explain, I don't mind listening. It's a partnership." He smiled as he pushed the door of the motel room open. "Besides… I skimmed through the reports.

Ron and Kim stepped into the room and both stopped simultaneously to stare at the mess before them. Every square foot in the room was cluttered. Shopping bags, what appeared to be old receipts, pieces of scribbled-on paper, and shredded boxes covered the ground from the door to the double beds in the middle of the room. There wasn't a corner in the room that wasn't piled high with plastic crates filled with clothes; the top of the television was covered in empty bottles. Stacks of magazines of magazines, catalogues and newspapers lined up the walls adjacent the double beds and the night stand besides one of them was completely invisible under a mound of assorted items.

Kim frowned at mess. "Reminds me of your office."

"It's our office now, so half that mess is yours."

Kim drew in a breath as she surveyed the room. "Even after just skimming the report you would know that the sheriff's department already combed through this room. They didn't find much."

Ron ran his hands across his face. "And unfortunately they didn't find anything interesting."

"Interesting huh?" Kim muttered as she handed him a pair of disposal gloves.

"We already know, thanks in part to my _old_ friends. Paul Oz is a compulsive pack rat. He doesn't let go, there has to be something interesting here that can help us out."

Kim stepped further into the room. "Well since we do have the means and opportunity, I would prefer that I… We conduct our own investigation."

Ron groaned. "I dread and love this part of the job."

Kim turned to him. "It would help if we had a general idea of what to look for. Something of a little more specific than 'interesting.'"

"Something weird, unusual." Clearly amused Ron mulled it over for a moment as he slid a glove onto his right hand. "Something that seems out of place."

Kim rolled her eyes. "That should cut down the time. I'll take left side of the room, if you'll take the right."

"Sounds fair."

A half hour or so later, while Ron was digging through the open drawer on what he reasonably assumed was Paul Oz's crowded night stand Kim materialized before him.

"I'm done with my side of the room" she said.

"What?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I also did some of your side while you were looking under the bed."

"Seriously?" Ron's eyes darted from Kim to the mess in Paul Oz's nightstand drawer. His eyes fell onto a blue rubber ball. "I'm not even done with this drawer."

Kim looked down at her partner who was lying on his side on top of a few layers of crumpled sheets "Yes well if you weren't lying in Paul Oz's bed you might be able to search faster."

"Hold that thought," Ron interjected. He pointed to the rows of magazines, newspapers, and catalogs that lined up against the adjacent wall to the bed. "This is weird.....There are eight rows, and every row except row five and six are about five feet high. For the last minute or so I've been lying here wondering why row five and six are only three feet tall."

"Uh-huh," Kim turned away from the stacks. "Aren't you… uncomfortable, lying in the victim's bed."

"Very," Ron sighed. "It's disturbing and more than a little gross."

"So why are you doing it?"

Ron snatched the rubber ball and plopped back onto the bed "Would it help, if I said I'm not being lazy and I'm actually trying to get into the victim's head?"

"I'm more likely to believe it's a little of both."

"Harsh."

Ron tossed the ball against the wall across from him and caught it on the rebound. "So are you going to do your summarizing thing?"

"It's not my thing" Kim snapped back. "But it wouldn't hurt if we started off with the items of 'interest' that was found by the sheriff's department in the apartment and on the victim's person."

Twinkles shone in Ron's eyes as he grinned. "Sure."

"Combined Mr. Oz and Mr. Henson had approximately two hundred dollars in their wallets. Also discovered on Mr. Henson's person were brass knuckles, a syringe, and small bottle of chloral hydrate……Mr. OZ carried two pairs of gloves and some pepper spray…..These guys were not up to anything good."

"That is an understatement A.P."

Ron tossed the ball at the ceiling.

"Wait didn't the sheriff's report mention some other stuff in Oz's pocket?"

"Yeah. A stained napkin, packets of ketchup, receipts, a purple marble, a raffle ticket for a school fair held by the local high two weeks ago. A flier for a high school play "Romeo and Juliet," that opened three weeks ago----

"Romeo and Juliet....."

"-----And finally a ticket stub----"

"Wait I remember it was a ticket stub to a chick flick" Ron said. "A movie called "Summer Loving." Some of Paul's pocket junk doesn't seem to match his personality."

Kim chewed over the items for a moment. "Yeah, a fair, a play, and a romantic movie…The victims were not the type to be found at those events. But we might just be stereotyping them."

"It's all very interesting."

"Now for the evidence found amidst the junk of this room, the sheriff discovered night vision binoculars worth close to two hundred dollars, and a sound amplifier costing about one fifty."

"Spy gear…..Stolen?"

"Bought, some of the receipts found in his wallet."

"These guys have a bank account?" Ron asked.

"Nope, paying their rent, buying the binoculars and amplifier…the three bills in their pocket, these guys came into some money recently. Or more likely some cash.....But where is it? They didn't take it with them, and unless they really were idiots they wouldn't leave it in this room out in the open. What's on the door you can barely a lock."

Ron tossed the rubber ball at any adjacent wall to the bed and caught it on the bounce back. "Good questions, if they didn't spend it all, they hid it somewhere."

"It's possible."

Ron pitched the ball at the adjacent wall again."It's more than possible. So what did _we_ find in the room?"

"You mean what did I find?" Kim remarked.

"Sure, we can go with that."

"Something 'interesting,' a broom I found under Henson's desk."

A curious look came over Ron's face. He eyed his partner speculatively. "You spotted something interesting about that broom?"

Kim turned the broom over showcasing the bristles. Ron squinted and spied the dark colored powder on them.

"Dust?"

"Ventilation dust. I think." Kim said.

"There aren't any ventilation vents in this room, A.P."

"No vents?" Kim face scrunched up as she surveyed the room quickly. "You're right."

Ron sprang upright before whipping the ball at the missing two feet of space right above stack four and five. The ball broke through the very thinly plastered wall.

Kim eyed the wall, "Phantom vent?"

"The phantom vent" Ron grinned.

Moments later the two agents had peeled the plaster from the vent opening and removed small duffel bag from its interior. Ron unzipped the bag and frowned at the contents inside.

"It's the money," Kim said as she explored the bag. "I'd say a couple thousand from an initial glance."

She glanced at her partner. "This is a big lead, you should be excited."

"Oh, I'm excited."

"But disappointed" Kim commented. "You were anticipating something more, more, 'interesting' right?"

"Dunno," Ron reached into the bag and brushing away a pile of candy wrapper he pulled out a digital camera. He turned the camera on and scanned the photos on the memory stick through the rear LCD. "Hmmm, looks like we've got another layer in this onion."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"There is the possibility that Mr. Oz and Mr. Henson were working on some weapon prototype in the woods and it accidentally malfunctioned on them."

"So who moved them?" Ron asked.

"Maybe they had a third member in the group. One whom, like you predicted earlier felt remorse over their deaths but ultimately didn't want to be connected to an illegal experiment. This of course doesn't explain how the bodies were moved."

"And I don't remember the remains of any type of weapon being found in the woods."

"Yet... alternatively this fugitive partner may have cleaned up somehow. " Kim sighed, "Of course the biggest flaw in this theory is that the victims have shown no signs of having the intelligence required to work on such advanced weaponry."

"They could have been interns."

"Here's another theory," Kim continued seemingly ignoring him. "Perhaps the victims were hired to be part of an experiment possibly testing out a new high energy weapon. Unfortunately they got more then they bargained for."

"That's reasonable. But explain this…" Ron held up the digital camera they had discovered in the victim's duffel bag.

"I don't know, but that's why we should keep investigating. Do you have any ideas?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure I've come up with anything yet. But I'm always willing to explore alternative possibilities."

"For example?"

"I'll let you know when I run into some," Ron replied.

Kim stared up ahead, they were currently standing in front of the "The Do Drop In", a local bar or more specifically a dive that was known to be the favorite haunt of the two victims. Kim had insisted they return to Sheriff's department with the bag of money, but Ron disagreed. The bar was conveniently closer to the motel room the victim's lived, in contrast to the Sheriff's office. He was adverse to them doubling back and wasting to time, so here they were.

"So how do we play this?"

Ron glanced at her with a puzzled look on his face. "What?"

"Do you want to take the lead in questioning?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yes," Kim nodded with a sigh. "That is indeed what I'm doing."

"I'm flattered but… I think you should lead. Chances are the guy's in this bar are alpha male types. You're an alpha female, when alphas get together in the same room something usually happens."

"Do we want something to happen?"

Ron grinned, "Something is almost always better than nothing."

"Uh-huh. And what's your role in this?"

"My style is to observe and comment on anything… that may need to be observed and commented upon."

"_That's_ your style?"

Ron nodded. "It's how I roll."

"Fine," Kim followed Ron to the door of the bar and he held it open for her.

"So you think of me as an alpha female huh?"

"A one hundred percent compliment," Ron replied sincerely.

Inside, the place was dim and the air was stagnant. The Drop In had a low hanging ceiling that featured less than "safety inspector approved" light fixtures dangling from them. An old looking wood bar was off to the right. The rest of the space in the tavern, was taken up by multiple wooden tables and accompanying chairs. The song Hotel California blared from the jukebox beside the bar.

"Wow, you can taste the dank on your tongue," Ron said as he moved his tongue about in his mouth.

Kim's lips smacked loudly. "I thought that was the grime."

Including the bartender behind the counter there was only two people in the tavern. One stared down the down at the bottom of a shot glass at a table on the far side of the room and another sat up at the bar with his head on the counter. The bartender looked up at them with a sneer.

"Out of towners, always showing up early. We're not open yet kids."

"What about these guys?" Ron pointed to the two other patrons.

"They're some of my regulars." The bartender crowed.

"Well we're F.B. I." Kim replied.

Ron and Kim flashed their identification at the bartender as they approached the bar.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Paul Oz and Feely Henson. They were regulars too"

"I already told the sheriff everything I knew."

Kim smiled politely. "Well how about you talk to us about them…Mr.?"

"Frank."

"That's your last name?"

"No," he scoffed. "It's Frank Kollings and you are too cute to be a cop."

Kim grimaced; she exchanged a quick glance with Ron and gave him eye-roll that he defined as saying "Puh-leeze".

Ron was in mid-chuckle when some furtive movement from the other man at the bar. The man lifted his head off counter and was now glaring at the two agents.

Kim leaned into bar. "Now Mr. Kollings we would appreciate your cooperation in our investigation."

Frank waved her off. "I'll pass."

Kim stared into Frank's eyes and held his gaze. "You can treat me and my partner to some small town hospitality or you we can talk later while the local fire brigade takes a gander at those fire traps you call lights."

The bartender gave Kim a sour look. "You're not so cute anymore."

"Ah A.P? This guy over here is giving us the stink eye."

"If you want to harass someone, harass Pete 'the squeak' over there." The bartender pointed to the man at the counter. "He got real friendly with Feely in the last year."

Pete, apparently soused, pushed himself from the bar; "Whaat's that ssupposed to mean?"

"Sir, is it true that you were friends with the deceased" Kim asked.

"No I didn't know them." He answered with a husky laugh, "but I'd do anything for those magnificent bastards."

"That's a contradiction sir," Ron chuckled-whispered to Kim.

"You think?" She said.

"He gave the Sheriff the same song and dance but all the regulars will tell you different," Frank laughed. "He had a man-crush on Feely; we tease him about it all the time. It's a running gag in this place."

"Shut your mouth Frank! You don't know anything about nothing!"

Ron carefully studied the drunk before him. "I would bet this man has had a drink or two A.P."

"Well let's give it a shot anyway." Kim stepped forward. "Sir we'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Hhoow about yoou buy me a drink?" Pete slurred.

"How about we get to know each other a little first?" Ron quipped

"Listen," Pete snarled. "I was talking to the lady, not too you!"

Swiftly Kim placed herself between Ron and Pete. "We'd just like to talk about Mr. Oz and Mr. Feely."

Pete wavered on his feet. "I didn't know them; I didn't know them at all"

Ron reached over Kim's shoulder and pointed to the man's eyes. "You know a high blinking rate while speaking is a sure sign that someone is lying."

"You calling me a liar?"

"Actually sir, the perspiration on your forehead is calling you a liar" Ron replied.

With an unexpected swiftness Pete sidestepped Kim and shoved Ron into the bar. He raised his big ham-like fist. Kim tensed up after he had brushed past her, she wasn't sure if Ron was any good at martial arts, but she was. Pete launched his fist at Ron and Kim grabbed his wrist out of the air with one hand and exerted pressure and control over it. Stepping forward she rotated the Pete's elbow and dragged his upper body onto the counter.

"Sir, you've just assaulted a federal officer, the maximum term of imprisonment under the current legislature is three years." Kim stated calmly.

"Now it is my duty to drag you to the sheriff, but that's not entirely set in stone. I have been known to become generous in the face of cooperation."

"Whoa! No fighting in the bar!" Frank yelled out.

Ron shook his head rapidly. "There was no fight, there was only total ownage."

Kim glanced in Ron's direction. He appeared genuinely impressed.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm copacetic. You however are definitely earning that Alpha badge"

Kim smiled to herself, despite her better judgment. She applied a bit more pressure to Pete's wrist and he whimpered into the wood of the counter. "Now sir, will cooperate?"

"Now come on, don't put a hurting on the lil' guy. He's just a tough guy wannabe," Frank muttered. "Dammit Pete, just tell them what you know."

"Alright!" Pete wailed. Kim released Pete from the hold and he immediately began to rub down his wrist.

"I am…we were friends… me, Paul, and Feely were friends. We met when I moved here last year. It shocked me what happened to my pals, I've been in a stupor since."

"Did you notice anything strange about their behavior leading up to their deaths?" Kim asked.

"Nah nothing much, maybe they were a little more cheerful….and that makes things even more tragic."

"Cheerful? About what?"

"Feely had an idea for a job, he always has great ideas, and this one was a great idea, as far as great ideas go this one was…"

"The fastest way to a point is to cut to it" Kim sighed.

"A few months ago he got the idea that he and Paul who work as private investigators. You know 'P.I' and whatnot."

Frank nodded, "Idiots posted fliers all over my bar."

Ron turned to Kim. "Were they licensed?"

Kim shook her head. "Nothing like that on their file. Anyway, we can assume these guys didn't have a problem working outside the system."

"So Pete, did you work with them?" Ron inquired as he dipped his fingers in a bowl of bar nuts.

"Nah, Feely uh…he didn't think I was tough enough. Besides him and Paul have been friends since they were in high school. Of course he'd partner up with Paul."

Kim cleared her throat. "And they were chipper because they got a case?"

Pete nodded. "I assume they got about a month or so after Feely came up with the idea. Their first and last one I suppose. It had Feely grinning from ear to ear for two weeks straight."

"Do you know what the job entailed?"

Pete shook his head. "No, and that's the God honest true. They must have done right by their client though, about a week before they died, they were walking around with pockets full of money."

"It's true, they came in the night before they died and brought a few rounds for everyone at the bar."

"Think back for a moment," Ron said. "Is there anything, anything you can remember, any small detail you can recall that could have hinted to, or gave you an idea of what their case was about?"

Pete shrugged weakly. "I always asked but Paul would brush me off or Feel would grin and say "It's all in the crisp."

Ron's eyebrow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It's a slogan for a candy bar, 'Toffee Nutters'." Frank interjected. "They're released by the sugar refinery outside of town every Independence day. It's a well know fact Feely loved them, there wasn't a damn night he didn't squeeze them into any conversation."

"So you have no idea what this case was about?"

Pete shook his head vigorously.

Simultaneously Kim and Ron turned towards each other. "He's telling the truth" Ron told her.

"That your professional opinion?" Kim said with her right cocked.

Ron scooped the digital camera from his pocket and smiled. "Everything I say is my professional opinion A.P."

Kim stared at him skeptically before turning his attention back. "A few more questions sir."

Ron fiddled with camera before placing rear LCD screen before Pete. "Have you ever seen the young woman in this picture before?"

Pete studied for a second before scoffing. "Everyone in town knows who that is. That's Jake's Henry's daughter."

"Who?" Ron asked.

"Remember the sugar refinery I told you about earlier? Jake owns it."

"Oh really?"

Ron looked down at the camera. All of the pictures in the memory stick featured this one girl. There weren't many so Ron and Kim had cycled through the pictures a number of times before coming to the bar. Pictures of her shopping, at cheerleader practice, through windows, it was all very creepy. Half of the pictures featured her in various activities; the other half was of her kissing and holding hands with some young man in the woods.

"Paul and Feely, they, they were good people. Instead of harassing me, you should be out there finding out what happened to them?!" Pete shouted.

"That is exactly what we are doing sir." Kim told Pete.

Pete shook his head. Muttering obscenities to himself he plopped back on the bar stool he was sitting on before the agents had arrived.

"Hey" Ron showed Frank one of the kissing pics. "What about this dude?"

Frank didn't need more than brief glance.

"Hmmm, that's Kenny Bullard. But I must be drunker than Pete here to be seeing this, there's no way he could be kissing on that girl."

"_Bullard?" _Kim recalled the last name immediately. It also didn't make her feel better to see the expression on Ron's face. It was one of absolute bliss,

"Would he be related to Joe Bullard?" Ron asked.

"Kenny is Joe's son."

Ron nodded happily. "You showed genuine surprise at seeing these two together, why?"

"Cuz of her daddy. He's an over protective son of a gun and a ne'er do well like Kenny doesn't seem like the type that would impress that man."

"Is that so?" Ron looked at Kim. "Anything else?"

"No we're done here." Her attention went to frank than Pete. "I appreciate the cooperation."

"Do your jobs, or let someone else handle it!" Pete yelled out as she and Ron turned to leave.

"We will, and we'll do it right." Kim said as she shot a glance at Ron. "It's just a coincidence, that's all," she whispered to him.

"You think so?"

"Yes."

"A grin spread across Ron's face as he pushed through the exit. "Coincidences can be fun with an open mind."

* * *

A/N

Plot thickens. Yes, No. Maybe? Read and review.


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